The Demon King
by Niji Hitomi Kabra
Summary: What kind of trouble can Shiro, Ichigo, Grimmjow, and Renji get into on Halloween playing with a Ouija board? A Kitsune!Gin and Demon!Ulquiorra seem to be destined to find out. Warnings: AU, yaoi, character death, mind-fuckery, explicit violence, dub/non-con, mpreg, bondage, light D/s. Ulqui/Shiro, Renji/Gin, Grimm/Ichi, eventual Aizen/Shinji, implied Ichi/Shiro, past Bya/Renji.
1. The Awakening: Chapter 1

**A/N:** Merry Samhain, minna! Sorry I've been away for so long. x_x I'm still not technically back, because I got laid up for two weeks with Chickenpox! DX But my partner, SilverEternity, and I cooked this little gem up for Halloween. There will be other chapters, we just couldn't get it all written tonight. Gomenesai! Anyway, enjoy. Ja ne, minna!

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**Part 1: The Awakening**

All Hallows Eve, the night of mischief and magic. A night when the wall between worlds thinned to allow the crossing over of spirits, demons and other mystical beasts. Children in costumes played mockery to the ancient tradition of dressing in disguise, and gathered candy from strangers in hordes that rival the dragons of old. In a suburb of Tokyo, four college-age boys gathered in their apartment to avoid both the masses of screaming ignorant children and the throngs of more sedate, if not equally ignorant, adults. Scary movies had been watched, pranks had been played, beer had been drunk, and food had been eaten. Now, as the witching hour approached, the white-haired demon-obsessed twin of the leader exhaled noisily, letting the curtain drop back down in front of the window.

"King, I'm bored." He complained, flicking a cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table.

His twin, duplicate except for coloration, groaned and rolled his eyes. "Dig out one of the board games then?"

The 'King's consort, or rather, his blue-haired boyfriend, snorted. "Really? Board games? On fuckin' Halloween? Come on, so lame." He jeered from where he was spread out over a couch.

Their fourth, a tattooed beefcake with hair the color of blood, snickered from where he was hanging his head backward off the couch arm. "Yah, like scarin' the trick-or-treaters between beers an' settin' a jack-o-lantern in th'fuckin' town fountain was so epic."

"Shaddup, I promised to take it easy last year. And this year. So Ichi doesn't have to worry 'bout me fuckin' all the prison bitches." Grimmjow kicked at him.

"I am less worried about you 'fucking all the prison bitches' than I am about you BEING IN PRISON IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Ichigo smacked the blunette over the top of the head with his book. "You promised no having to pay court costs until we've gotten out of this shitty apartment and into a real one downtown! That means no bailing you out of jail."

Shiro snickered. "Fine, I'll find somethin'."

He crossed the room as his twin flopped down in his boyfriend's lap regardless of the man's irritation. Gold eyes scanning the shelf of games, he grinned, and pulled down a box. Proudly he placed it on the table, the glow-in-the-dark lettering shimmering lightly in the lamp light against the black and purple background.

"A Ouija board? Seriously, Shii?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow. " I know you're obsessed with magic and shit but do you have to bring it up every time we hang out? That old prophecy Yama-jii told us as kids was a story. There's no such thing as the First King."

Shiro pouted a little. "Well, you come up with a better idea then."

"The fuck's a Ouija board?" Renji asked, frowning. As a slum kid, they often ran into things he didn't know or had never heard about. When living hand to mouth from a garbage heap, anything that didn't help in surviving wasn't worth attention.

Grimmjow snorted again and stroked his boyfriend's hair. "Actually, s' fuckin' Halloween. S'near midnight—the witchin' hour, yeah? What harm c'n it do ta fuck around wit' the'thing an' 'ave a bit o' fun, babe?"

Ichigo groaned, and rolled his eyes. "Fine. It's not like doing anything with it will actually do anything, but if it makes you happy to push a little wooden triangle around a board for a few minutes, fine."

Shiro, on the other hand was ecstatic. He practically pounced to the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table from the other three. He always got like this when Renji asked about anything related to his obsession with magic. "Fuck, Red! A Ouija board is like THE best way to summon shit like demons! In ancient times wizards an' warlocks an' witches an' shit would draw symbols on the floor to contact the Other Side! An' they'd use stones an' shit to bind the demon to 'em fer a night, fer the week, fer the rest of their lives! It was fuckin' epic!"

The whole time he was opening the box and pulling the pieces out, setting them up, and shoving everything else onto the floor. As he was about to launch into a detailed description of some eviscerating devil or mind-raping curse or something equally as twisted and disturbing, Ichigo cut him off.

"Just set the shit up, Shii."

"Aw, lettim 'ave his fun, Ichi," Grimm coaxed, pulling Ichigo into his chest further. "Thissus 'is time o' year ta shin, babe. It's th'only time o' year 'e gets ta show off his knowledge o' useless bullshit."

Renji ignored the other two to watch Shiro curiously. "So? Ain't ancient times no more an' people don't got magic. Don' know how ta use it if they did."

Shiro grinned and his eyes glinted in the lamp light. "Oh they have magic alright, they just don' know what they're doin' with it."

He was wearing that special expression that meant trouble for Ichigo, which had the orangette rolling his eyes and knocking back a drink of Grimmjow's beer. The whole thing seemed pointless to the art major, but if it made his brother happy, whatever. He watched closely as Shiro positioned the slider and set the box off to the side.

"Now what yer s'posed to do is put yer hands on the triangle and concentrate on a question or a wish or something, an' the spirits from the Other Side'll answer it for ya." Shiro said, reading the instruction book that came with it. He looked all excited, like a child at Christmas. "You do it first , King!"

"Geez." Ichigo rolled his eyes again, and took another drink of his beer. He sat forward, unintentionally grinding his ass against Grimmjow's crotch, put both hands on the slider and with a deadpan expression asked, "Will my brother finally get laid tonight?"

For several moments, they all watched the silent board, waiting for something to happen—anything to happen. Ichigo rolled his eyes again, and Grimmjow smirked, enjoying both the view and the placement of the orangette's hips.

"See? I told you it was stupid. It doesn't do anything unless you push it." Ichigo scoffed, but what he didn't say was that he was putting pressure on the slider and it wouldn't move.

Little did they know how close the Other Side was tonight. Close enough that someone had felt the spiritual 'reaching out' of the board and come to see what they wanted to know of them. Slowly, the wooden triangle began to move, spelling out 'It is a possibility' before stopping squarely in the center, over the eye carved in the board. This spirit had obviously taken a moment to consider before answering.

There was a beat where they all still just stared at the board. Was Ichigo moving it or, was it really something…else? Not a one of them breathed until Ichigo whipped his hands away from the board.

"Dafuq!?"

"I told ya, King! All ya gotta do is ask. Here, lemme show ya what I mean." Shiro spun the board so it was facing him, and grinned again. Putting both black-nailed hands on the slider, he closed his eyes, and chanted. "Come Prince of Darkness an' answer my call, Fourth of the Great Ones from yer tower so tall. Claws sharp as daggers an' speed like no other, appear on this plane to my wuss of a brother-"

"Hey!" Ichigo interupted, but Shiro ignored him.

"-Until dawn's bright light you will answer to me. As it is written, SO MOTE IT BE!" Shiro grinned maniacally at the board, with bated breath.

The spirit in question chuckled- so the white one even knew his title. How interesting…he decided to take the Contract. It was only for a night and if necessary there was already a loophole- 'as it is written' in a verbal contract.

The room darkened in spite of all the lights in the small apartment being on. Above the board, a small, horizontally oriented, oval rip, swirling purple and black in the center, appeared. Slowly, it widened and lengthened, and when it was nearly as big as Grimmjow was, something white started to protrude out of the top, and slowly came up two long, twisting white horns. The figure grew in alabaster and ebony. Its head was bowed to its chest, and wrapped around its body were large, vaguely fluffy bat-like wings.

Grimmjow clutched Ichigo tightly to his chest, and Renji hid behind the couch faster than any of the others had ever seen him move. Shiro even freaked out a little as Ichigo clung to Grimmjow's shirt swearing and cursing.

"SHIT! I get it, Shii, I fucking get it! Now fucking get rid of it!"

"I can't! He answered, King. It means he took the Contract." Shiro was leaning back on his hands, staring wide-eyed at what had to be the most beautiful expanse of pure white flesh he'd ever seen aside from his own.

"Indeed," rumbled a deep, toe-curling baritone, "I did."

As it rose fully from the portal, its wings unfurled in a grand display of strength and beauty, just barely not knocking over anything. Eyes still closed, chin still tucked to the now-obviously male chest, one arched, taloned foot took a 'step down' from the portal to the floor, the portal disappearing as the second foot came to rest beside it. For being a demon, he was elegant. Poised. Even dainty. Of course, being a flying creature, his balance was expected to be excellent, and it was, but his entire posture was perfect, straight and tall. In his chest, where his sternum should have been, was a round, perfect hole the size of a fist, 'blood' marks running thick and black down his chest. Finally, his tail unwound, whipping out into the room where it knocked over a lamp, which shattered loudly. At the sound he raised his chin and opened the most dazzling poison-green eyes ever to grace any world. He surveyed his surroundings with vague curiosity.

Shiro was instantly star-struck. He panted. He couldn't help it. Porcelain skin, powerful wings, sinewy tail, long twisting horns-he was EVERYTHING the book had and more. And...was that...? Shiro tilted his head to the side, gold eyes running up and down the curvature of delicate muscle and followed the powerful, wicked talons up graceful legs covered in fur as black as pitch, to hips that were covered in the same.

"Heh..." The albino perv chuckled. "Yer nekkid."

The demon's eyes skidded over and past the Bright Ones, found Shiro and stopped. This was the Holder. And he had addressed him. He looked down at himself, then raised an eyebrow. "I have fur," he replied flatly. Then he tilted his head slightly. "What manner of demon are you? It is Written that no demon may summon another."

"Oh for Kami's sake, Shiro. Put your tongue back in your mouth! And he's not a demon. He's my twin brother." Ichigo looked nervously from the creature to his twin and back again, still clutching Grimmjow's shirt and keeping his feet tucked up onto the couch, like the childish belief that the evil thing wouldn't be able to get him if he didn't touch the floor.

Shiro could do nothing but leer. Under the fur, he was sure, lay things he'd never had to play with before, and he wanted to play. He wanted nothing more than to play. Catching the look on his twin's face, Ichigo shuddered and closed his eyes in a grimace. He certainly hoped this 'demon' was strong enough.

"Kami has no place here," Ulquiorra replied, "but your brother is correct. Put that blue appendage away. It is unseemly." Ulquiorra then nodded to Ichigo. "_Gracias, hermano del sol._" Demons often collected a number of languages over their years. Then Ulquiorra gave Shiro one last look and disappeared. The only clue to where and how he had gone was the suddenly wide-open window letting in the chill night air.

Oh no...oh no...oh no...Ichigo stared at the window, a slow chuckle brought his attention to his brother. "No...Shii"

The albino grinned wider, a psychotic bent coming to his features.

"_Shii_..." Ichigo started uncurl himself from Grimmjow's lap as his brother rolled onto all fours. "SHII! NO!"

The twins met eyes and both shook their heads in opposite directions. The albino's muscles bunched.

"NO, SHII!...SHIRO!" His cries were ineffectual as his brother cocked his grin sideways, and a small hiss was heard. "At least..."

Shiro burst through the window.

"...use the door..." Ichigo slumped against Grimmjow's chest. "Damnit."

Grimmjow clung to his lover, staring at the damn board as if it was possessed. "...tha's it. I'm burnin' tha' thing," he declared, already going for his lighter. "An' all'a rest o' Shiro's magic shit."

"_Ack!_" Ichigo grabbed his boyfriend's hand. "Do you know what kind of pissy-fit he'd throw if you did that!? He's gotta least write his thesis on this shit or his entire college career will be for nothing. You know he's a mythology major!" The squirming brought to Ichigo's attention just what sitting in the blunette's lap had done to him. A slow smirk crossed his face, and he drew one hand from his boyfriend's wrist up his arm to cup his chin, thumbing under the edge of what was left of the skeletal mask he'd plastered to his face just for the aforementioned child-scaring. "Besides...Grimmy, I wanna summon something."

Grimmjow stared at him in complete disbelief. "You want to—but—he—we—for the love of—what are you _thinking_?!" He didn't let go of the lighter, frowning deeply.

Ichigo gave an evil giggle, and snatched up the slider. He held it in both hands, away from the board, "I summon the human, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, to my bedroom to be my sex slave until either he passes out or I do." He bit his lip, and tossed the wooden triangle, "That is, if he can catch me." And he dashed off down the hallway towards the room the two vibrant-haired males shared.

"You...uh...FUCK! I've been summoned!" Leaping to his feet, a perverted grin cracking his features Grimmjow abandoned the board completely to chase his demonically-fast little lover without another thought to any of the shit that had just happened. He had an Ichigo to fuck stupid!

Renji peeked from behind the couch. "...Goddamn it. Left behind. _Again_."

The slightly dimmed lamp light glinted conspicuously on the crystal window of the wooden triangle where it lay on the edge of the board, almost as though it _wanted _Renji to play with it. Cautiously, the tattooed redhead slunk forward, picking it up and placing it on the board, in the center, where Ulquiorra had left it. Then, frowning, he gave it a try. Hesitantly.

"Uh...I don' know if anyone is listenin'...or even cares...but if someone is, I'd like som'un ta keep me company fer a while...so long's it's not some spirit 'at's gunna try ta eat, maul, or ya know, generally cause harm ta me. S' kinna lonely bein' th' only one wit'out somebody ta be with...or in Shiro's case, ta be playin' with."

There was a childish giggle, but the room didn't darken as it had before. A cloud of mist, white and fluffy, started growing out of the crystal, by the time the cloud was man-sized, a delicate hand with bright silver claws emerged from it. The arm followed and then a second hand, followed by the second arm, walking out of the mist, pulling the body of what appeared to be a fox-boy. The silver-haired head appeared at that point, large conical ears twitching this way and that, and a closed-eyed grin accompanied the face. The creature walked on his hands across the table to Renji's knees and began walking up his body, hover its own mostly fur-covered body mere inches from Renji's. Suddenly a tail appeared from the mist curled to the left. A second bushy fox-tail curled to the right, forming a heart above the creature's head, and finally the mist dissolved to reveal long furry legs, much like Ulquiorra's before, and a third tail that wagged happily.

"Mah! Hi there, Tiger." He purred.

Renji, pressed with his back to the floor, gave a little sound he would later deny was a squeak. "Uh…hi," he replied, russet eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to comprehend the creature on his lap.

The creature licked his lips. "Ya c'n call me Gin, like mah hair." His ears flicked, and he instantly went for the belt buckle of Renji's jeans.

Renji squealed and clapped his hands to said belt to prevent him. "That doesn't even make sense—and keep your hands off that!"

"Aww, but I wan' play! Wouldja like me better like this?" A shiver rippled through Gin, and suddenly size D-cup breasts were pressed against Renji's chest, and shapely hips and legs straddled his lap, while all three tails swayed happily—just as naked as the creature had been as a male. The only thing covering now-her modesty was a strategically placed patch of fur like a built-in bikini.

The poor human's brain shorted out as his eyes went wide and his body spazzed for a moment before he flushed the same color as his hair and slammed his eyes shut. "EEP, No! No, no, no, change back, _change back_!"

"Ooh! So ya like me better as a boy? Prrrr!" She rippled again and became the male who'd first appeared from the mist. Now though his position brought his fur covered crotch in contact with Renji's jean-clad one, and he ground his hips seductively.

Renji rolled over and pinned him with his hips and hands. "I…uh…belay tha', will ya! Christ ya move fast," he muttered, looming over the smaller male, eyes burning down into Gin's as he held him down, seductive and powerful.

The answer he received was a vibrating purr, and the up-to-now-closed eyes slit open to reveal the brightest ice blue orbs he'd ever seen. "Course I do. 'M a kitsune! A sex demon."


	2. The Awakening: Chapter 2

Outside, in the cold October air, Shiro let out an insane cackle, dashing down the street after the faintly darker smudge against the moonlit sky. He skidded around a corner, hooked a hand onto the fire escape of their apartment building and took the ladder steps three at a time. There was no way he was letting his prize get away tonight, and he only had about eight hours before the dawn would end the Contract.

The demon's ears twitched at the sound of shattering glass from the residence he'd just left. The corner of his mouth quirked just the slightest, and he spiraled higher in the air, relishing the chance to stretch his wings to their fullest. Oh, it had been so long since he had flown! He let out a triumphant cry as he executed a series of corkscrews and loops that left him nearly dizzy, tail whipping wildly behind him.

The wind was fresh in the albino's face as he swung from building to building, chasing after the shadow that crossed the moon. Damn, that unrivaled speed wasn't a joke. But fuck, the demon was gorgeous. The albino had to gather all of his strength to cross the steepled roof of the local church, and it took a nimble feat of extreme agility to swing back around the bell tower and up onto the roof of the office building next door. Alright, enough of this.

"Ulquiorra!" Shiro called, crossing his arms over his chest.

The shadow pulled up short. He was being addressed. Called by name. His _true _name. The summoner. Finding it only courteous to reply, and in no way because of the tug from deep within his soul, he swung into a tight turn, stopping in midair just inches from the man. His wings flapped to keep him suspended as he looked the other right in his gold-on-black eyes. He was all politeness, tail waving in a slow arc behind him to keep him stable. "Yes?"

"Not that this ain't fun," Shiro wasn't even out of breath, "But yer mine. I summoned you and the Contract says yer mine until dawn."

The demon's mouth quirked. "You are incorrect. While you forge a decent verbal contract, you are certainly no Paladin. 'Until dawn's bright light you will answer to me'. Well, I'm answering you. No, if you wanted a slave to obey and dance attendance, you should have put that in your Contract. I am simply _available _to answer to you until dawn."

Shiro did his best to school his features. He hadn't thought of that. Running his blue tongue over his teeth, he turned his head to the side and snorted. "Well, fuck. How about a game then?"

Ulquiorra allowed himself to land, wings arching high above them both as he hunched slightly forward, body inclined toward the other pale creature. He replied carefully, making a slightly vague gesture with one long-taloned hand, "I...I am as amenable to games as the next demon."

"You fly, I'll chase. If I catch ya, I get to fuck ya. If I can't, ya have the rest of the night to do whatever ya want." Shiro arched an eyebrow that was barely darker than his skin.

The demon frowned. "I have a slight issue with this game. I do not...what is the term you humans have taken to using? I do not 'bottom' for anyone. So no matter the circumstances you cannot fuck me. I suggest you choose better wording."

Shiro rolled his eyes. "Who bottoms doesn't matter, but fine...how's 'have sex' instead?"

"Define 'sex' for me. It seems to change every time I am summoned and I agree to nothing without knowing exactly what it is." Ulquiorra tilted his head slightly. It had been a long time since he'd spoken to a human face-to-face.

"Eh...well, ya see...erm..." Shiro's composure faded.

The only person he had any sexual experience with at all was his King, most people found out about his obsession with the supernatural and stayed as far away from him as possible, and the ones that weren't turned off by his hobbies, were already turned away by his appearance.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Uh...I guess we'd just do what King always does ta me. Stick his dick in my ass an' ride me 'til I come." He looked a little sheepish.

"Preferably with lube." A ruffle of the creature's wings was the only indication that he knew something about sex without such accessories, and he added under his breath, nodding. "I can agree to that. Restate the game and its terms, completely."

"You fly, I'll chase. If I catch you, we'll 'have sex'. If I don't, you have the rest of the night to do as you please. Deal?" The albino didn't quite see the point in restating it, but several of his texts had described something similar so he deliberately enunciated as clearly as he could.

His answer was a grin that showed the demon's teeth followed by Ulquiorra abruptly not being there anymore and a gust of wind pulling at Shiro's clothes with eager hands to point at which direction his quarry had gone.

Tossing his head back in another manic, full-bodied laugh, Shiro took off after the mostly monochromatic demon, jumping from building to building. Then his features clenched as a thought crossed his mind. He almost missed his next step and he poured on the speed calling out as he got close, "Oi! No magic! Only physical abilities allowed!"

"That," the demon called over his shoulder, "was not in the 'complete' description of the game and its rules! You cannot simply add rules as you go along!"

"No, but you never actually agreed either! Ya just took off. That's not an explicit agreement." Shiro was keeping pace with him. How was not evident, but he was.

"Point conceded," Ulquiorra said with no small amount of respect. Maybe the boy was a budding Paladin after all. "If you can catch me, we will engage in 'sex', and if not I will do whatever I like with my night, and I will not use magic to evade you. It is a deal. Naturally, the magic of the curse that made me a demon in the first place is exempt," he added.

"Wait, curse? Which curse?" Shiro was intrigued. Wasn't there a legend? Something about a false-god that created the Four? The ashen brows knit together as he tried to remember his thousands of manuscripts and notes.

The demon slowed his flying speed enough to elaborate without the wind snatching away pertinent information. "The King's Curse," he replied. "A blood-based curse, the 'key' to which is a particular person born at a particular time and of the line of the First King."

"I KNEW YAMA-JII WASN'T LYING!" Shiro shouted and jumped, pumping his fist in the air.

The sudden shout—_right in his ear_—sent Ulquiorra's head spinning and his wings faltered, sending him into a downward-spiral so sharp his horns cutting through the air created a high whistle. He was able to correct before crashing, but hovered several feet away from Shiro warily, his left ear still ringing so loudly he could not hear out of it.

"Eh...gomene!" Shiro ducked his head and blushed a delicate dark grey.

"Forgiven," the demon replied, digging in that ear with one claw. Stupid ringing! "I know you did not do it out of malice. However, keep in mind that if the key is 'damaged' before I should find it, I will be cursed for eternity. There is only one chance for me, and the other Three who were Cursed. And when I say 'damaged', I do not mean harmed physically, but that one of the four conditions ceases to apply to my Key."

Shiro had actually stopped with his hovering quarry, because now his intuition and mental gears were running and he couldn't do both at the same time. "What are the conditions?"

Ulquiorra drifted slightly closer. The game had not officially started, and this was important. "First, they must be uncorrupted by this world. Second, they of course must be of the line of the First King. Third, they must be born during a particular age. What year is it?"

"2020." Shiro answered, a little distracted.

Uncorrupted...hmm, that could mean anything. Yama-jii had spoken of the First King often, and he'd absorbed any story the old man wanted to tell, including hints about who the First King had been and why he'd gone into hiding.

"What's the fourth condition?"

"They must be Untouched." Was the soft reply.

Shiro flushed, "Completely virginal, or just no sex with women?"

"I am amused you assume my key is male. However, I am not sure...I will check."

The demon drew his claw down the air and held out his other hand. From a tiny rip an enormous book with a dark brown cover dropped into his waiting hand, title emblazoned on the front and spine in bright gold: _Compendium of Terms for Curses, Deals, and Contracts_. He flipped to the relevant section and skimmed the page until he found what he was looking for.

"It appears one can only lose 'virginity' in magical terms by having sexual relations with the opposite sex. So 'just no sex with women'." With that, he shut the book and simply let it drop; it disappeared back into the same ether from whence it came.

Shiro blushed deeper, he hadn't even thought of the implications of his question when he had asked. His best friend was a lesbian, and he didn't think the demon understood that often women slept with women these days. He shook it off however, as his memory brought him a snippet of the last story his Yama-jii had ever told him before the old man died, "Well, according to the legend the First King's blood line results in only male heirs. Though they may have daughters, the first born is always male."

"Naturally. And the King's line is also extremely prone to twins. 'An heir and a spare', as the phrase was coined so...distastefully around the Victorian Era. However...according to my calculations, my key...has been born. And is likely still young, perhaps near twenty years in age." Ulquiorra frowned. "But there is no way to find him...if it even is a him."

"Doesn't the legend say he'll find you? At least, that's what Yama-jii always said." The albino cocked his head to the side and scratched absently at his temple.

The demon shrugged. "I am cursed and damned. I am not privy to all the details."

Unbidden, Shiro reached out his hand to touch the porcelain cheek in front of him, the gauntlet on his wrist glinting in the moonlight. Gold met emerald, and his breath caught, spell-bound by the power of the demonic male in front of him.

Ulquiorra was also held by those golden eyes, swimming in a sea of black, and didn't know what to make of it. He had been deprived of emotion much too long—he couldn't handle it. His wings flaring to their full extension, both in height and length, was the only clue aside from the absolute panic suddenly in his eyes before he straight out bolted, disappearing so quickly his departure left a buzzing sound.

"Shit." Shiro swore, and whipped around.

He'd heard of the demonic flit before. It was briefly mentioned as a means of immediate escape. With no sign of the enchanting male to be found he cursed again and took off for Tokyo Tower. At least from the roof he'd be able to see the sky in all directions without impediments.

Ulquiorra's last visit had been a thousand years ago—he _ran into _Tokyo Tower. Head spinning with pain, he spiraled slowly upwards, trying to figure out what the hell it was. What was the purpose of such a towering structure? What was it made of? As he came up over the top, he was truly a sight—wings in full extension as he came gliding in, one leg tucked up and the other extended to hit the roof, tail curving over itself in two places gracefully, horns glinting in the moonlight. He needed to land—his head was killing him.

Shiro, having just emerged from the service hatch on the roof of the observation deck, latched onto that graceful tail as it arched past him. He leered at the beautiful creature above him, and licked the tail tuft. He truly only meant to guide the demon to land, but his gesture was rather lewd. He took Ulquiorra thoroughly by surprise—so much so, his wing muscles froze mid-flap, causing him to plummet the last few feet directly. Clutching his head and cursing in about seven dead languages as those treacherous appendages caped his body protectively.

Shiro, for his part winced, and tried to soothe the fur in his hands. "You alright? Running head first into a bullet-proof glass window isn't generally a smart idea."

"Into a what-proof what window?" Maybe it was just the hit, but it sounded like words he'd never heard before. What on earth was the little sort-of-mage talking about?

"Well, the glass." The albino pointed down at his feet, "Of the observation deck. You ran into it."

"The fuck is _glass_," he stumbled over the unfamiliar word, still rubbing his head.

"The...shit...how long have you been gone? The see-through stuff." Shiro marched over to the edge of the circular platform high above the Tokyo skyline, crouched down and carefully leaned over the edge, knocking on the glass making a soft ringing sound. Only his favorite non-research-based hobby made it such that he wasn't fazed by being hundreds of feet up above the ground with no safety cables to anchor him.

"It's been roughly a thousand years since my last summoning. I think. Damn...'glass' hurts," He grumbled, tail lashing slightly.

"Well, yeah," Shiro laughed, "When ya run into it headlong, it's gonna hurt. Lemme see, ya might've bruised your skull or some shit."

"I highly doubt it," Ulquiorra snorted, but bent his head. One horn was chipped, near the base, but other than that and a nasty purple bruise on his scalp he was fine.

On impulse, Shiro kissed the bruise, much like he would have done if it had been one of his little sisters, and chuckled, "Yer fine. Guess yer head's harder than it looks, ne?"

"You have no idea," he replied dryly, wings flaring as he attempted to get back in the air.

Injury or not, he didn't want to waste any time he could possibly spend in the air. However, he misjudged the exact location of the steel pole atop the tower. He now hung from said pole by his wing, tail knotted from the sheer pain as his body curled and he held his head. _Right _between the goddamn horns!

Shiro winced, and tried desperately not to laugh as the previously straight pole now bent at a fifteen degree angle. "Oi! Steel is worse than glass. Git over here."

Ulquiorra hissed in his general direction like the injured animal he was, his other wing sweeping down to brace his body as he dropped to the little platform at the base of the pole, eyes still crossed.

Rolling his eyes, the albino stepped back a few paces, then ran across and up the nearest steel girder to hook his hands over the first I-beam. Once he'd hauled his feet up to it, he was immediately running along it. Then he was hauling himself up to the next one. Moving from I-beam to I-beam in a fair imitation of a cat, until he stood just below that platform, now another twenty or so feet above the observation deck.

Shiro swung up onto it, and reached out slowly, palm facing the demon, "Easy now. Shh."

He whispered, his other hand reaching into his pocket. He drew out a pink quartz crystal and offered it to the demon. When the other did nothing but sink into a crouch, the albino shifted closer, extending the crystal to hover over the demon's head. Pained, unfocused emerald eyes watched him with guarded curiosity.

Closing his own eyes, he began murmuring, "Brigid, Apollo, Ebisu, and Eir, attend to my voice and hear my prayer. Give to me strength out of history, that I might heal this injury. Through the Earth's salt and grain, make Your servant hale again. By the power born in me, I humbly ask, so mote it be." The crystal glowed a soft pink.

As the bruise faded, and the pain with it, Ulquiorra's vision straightened out from its doubled state and he frowned. He was—well, he was damn impressed. It was rare to find a human who knew how to properly call for aid even in times when Magic ran rampant and wild. "Humans have advanced far in the years I have been suspended in the darkness...and you know the Arts."

Shiro's blush was back. "I...uh...Don't tell King 'bout this. He thinks 'M weird 'nough as is."

He shoved the crystal back in his pocket and backed away, no longer feeling like giving chase. He always got touchy-feely after a healing spell, though no one else had ever actually witnessed him doing it, and he knew better than to think that grabbing the demon's tail counted as catching him. His hands in his pockets, he scuffed his shoe on the platform and leaned against the pole, nonchalantly. He took a cigarette from his other pocket and lit it with a flick of his thumb over the butane lighter from the same pocket. After a long drag, with his eyes closed, he sank down to dangle his leg off the edge and spoke again.

"Dun' worry 'bout the game. If ya wanna fly fer th' rest of th' night I won't stop ya."

Ulquiorra watched him a moment, wings half-flared. Then there was a sound in his ears—a heavy 'whip whip whip' of something large and sharp, cutting and beating the air. He had no idea what a 'helicopter' was, so it seemed to him that another demon, a rather dangerous one by the sound, was nearby. He swept down upon the white creature, picked him up, and used his wing on the bent pole to slingshot himself and his now-cargo off the building and into the air. Wings beating hard to escape what he considered danger, he held the human so close to his chest he could feel their heartbeats synchronizing. This was his human! His mage! He wasn't sharing!

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**A/N:** Because this is a holiday special, there will be special rules regarding its posting. Obviously. =3 I hope you all enjoy it, and thanks to everyone for such lovely reviews. I do want to warn my more sensitive viewers... 1. there is smut coming up in two chapters, and 2. next chapter will be **_VERY_** dark. I mean, we're talking this fic has my first ever character death. T^T I don't know exactly how I feel about it, we just wrote it tonight, and wow...I'm still reeling. I have the feeling that this...is going to be my darkest story ever. I mean, darker than Zanpakutou, and that's saying something...I hope you all won't hate me for relishing it just a little. Ja ne, minna!


	3. The Awakening: Chapter 3

**A/N:** This is the one, minna...the darkest chapter so far...I REALLY hate to use this warning, but it sort of came out of nowhere as we were writing it. I'm so sorry! T^T But _**WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH!**_

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Across town, at a club called 'Sin', the silver kitsune wound around his red-haired partner, purring in his ear, "Ya regret anythin', Tiger?"

"Can't say I do, so much," Renji replied, "unless we're countin' th' whole... accidentally lettin' ya inta my head thing."

"Heh, but tha' was fun~!" Gin giggled, leaning on the larger man's shoulders, hovering just above the pavement on his mist cloud.

"Mmm, real fun, 'cept fer tha, ya know, seein' of m' last boyfrien' an' all. I mean Jesus." he rolled his eyes. "Got 'chu all ready ta fuck somebody up."

His giggle took on a dark edge, he'd still gladly hunt down the dark-haired prissy-bitch that had thought it was fun to play with a fire-hair like his Tora! He curled one of his three tails around to tickle Renji's cheek. "That'd be fun too."

Renji turned his head and nipped at it before he could police himself, then abruptly realized that was enticing behavior and muttered an apology. Damn him and his weakness for smooth, silky things!

He almost had him! The grin on his face got wider, as the kitsune inched around on his mist, trailing his tails across the back of the redhead's neck, holding his hair aloft with daintily clawed hands.

"Yer still too tense, Tiger." He purred.

Renji breathed deep and tried not to growl—he'd found out the hard way it was an understandable language to Gin and apparently he excelled at talking dirty in Canine. "Mebbe so. Never did find ya somebody ta fuck...or som'un fer me ta fight," he added under his breath.

"We could solve both at th' same time, y'know." This wasn't the first time that night, the silver-haired male had suggested getting into the human's pants, but at least he'd toned it down from trying to rip the other's belt buckle open, that was an improvement wasn't it?

Only a little. Renji, the sex demon would eventually find, was beset by the most cursed affliction a kitsune could possibly conceive—but that was for later. "Nope. That's why we're out 'ere, 'member?"

"Too true, Tiger, too true." He looked around a bit, this was the fourth such club they'd been to, and the closer they got to their destination the more agitated the redhead seemed to get. He giggled again, and pulled his human along by the ponytail. "I think this'll be th' perfect place though. I never leave empty-handed from 'ere."

"M' not surprised," Renji muttered ill-naturedly, then groaning when they came up on the place and he realized who was working the door tonight.

"Oi! Red! S' been fuckin' ferever man!"

Dear unmerciful Kami, why did it have to be him? "...Hi, Z," Renji said with a deep sigh, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the ground.

"OOH! Ya know this place?! Sweet!" Gin practically launched himself from Renji's shoulder. "HI KEN-CHAN!" He called brightly, mid-leap at the tall, dark-haired, scarred bouncer.

Kenpatchi held out an arm to catch the kitsune. "Fuck yeah! Goddamn G, we been missin' yer foxy ass 'round 'ere!"

"Mah. I had a bat ta take care o'. He's a'ight now though." The demon giggled, wrapping all three tails happily around the bigger male. "He needed a push in th' right d'rection, if ya know what I mean. Fufufu. Same as this one." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Renji.

"Aw Hell, G, Red's wound tighter than a goddamn watch-spring. Don't be even kiddin', he don't need a push, he needs ta be dragged over the cliff kickin' an screamin'."

"But who d'ya know is better at draggin' th' unwillin' than me?!" The vulpine male flashed a toothy, sadistic grin, without opening his eyes.

"Mmm. Hard part is—" The bouncer snagged the man's shirt collar and dragged him back from where he'd been trying to slink off, "is he's a sneaky lil' shit too. Gotta keep 'n eye on 'im."

"Aw, Tiger," The kitsune pouted, "ya keep tryin' ta sneak off like tha' an' I'll start thinkin' ya don' want me 'round no more." He was hanging over Kenpachi's shoulder, tails waving in the air and thoroughly entertained.

Renji flushed and mumbled something that wouldn't have made any sense even if it had been audible.

Kenpatchi snorted. "So were ya...lookin' fer somethin', G, or jus' in tha neighborhood?

"Tiger wants a fight an' I wanna fuck. I'd rather fuck 'im, but," Gin shrugged. "I'll take what I c'n get. 'Specially if one'a m' fav'rites is dancin' t'night."

The bouncer snickered. "Ah, G. What'd ya 'ave in mind? Rather, who? It's fuckin' Halloween, everybody put on their best. Most everybody's booked a'ready."

Sighing dramatically, the kitsune thought for a moment, "Ooh! I haven't seen Ran-chan in ages."

"Ran-chan's got the night off. New boyfriend. Sorry man." The mountain of a man in liberty spikes thumbed his nose.

"No yer not," Renji shot back, "_YER _her new man, Z!"

"Ooh~!" Gin slipped his hands into the collar of Kenpachi's shirt, his claws delicately teasing the tanned and scarred flesh. "Bad, Ken-chan! What'll Yachi-chan say if things don't work out?"

The big, bulky man just grinned. "If Yachi's got anythin' ta say about it, Ran'll be stayin'. Now we jus' gotta convince the girl m' cock's good enough ta stick aroun', ne?"

Renji rolled his eyes. "Oh _please_."

"I know, I'm the best fuck she's ever gonna have, but we gotta make sure SHE knows it," Kenpachi replied slyly.

The silver fox giggled, "Mah, yer pretty good, Ken-chan, but So-so's better I think. Guess it's a good thing he's gay?"

Gin rolled over to hang upside down, supporting most of his weight on his mist-cloud, and tails swaying gently, one of them just brushing Renji's shoulder.

Renji chose not to react, neither to nuzzle it like he wanted to nor brush it off.

"Great thing he's gay. He's also busy t'night...fuckin' some bright young thing. Kid named Ishida. Nearly as smart as So is—So jus' love fuckin' 'im stupid." The bouncer rumbled.

Gin actually pouted after that one. He sighed, "Well that's two outta three. What 'bout Kira-kun? Nothin' like So-so, but...eh...beggers can't be choosers."

His tail, seemingly of its own volition curled around Renji's neck as the kitsune propped his chin on both hands, his elbows dug into his mist-cloud, but the redhead continued not to react.

"Well, Kira's out sick. Got pushed a lil further...than normal, I guess. He can' hardly move. S' cute, but ya can't fuck 'im in that condition. Jus' three? Why ain'cha askin' 'bout—"

"Z, ya finish tha' fuckin' sentence an' I'll tell Yachi it 'uz you bleached all 'er pink tutus."

Gin looked between the two, then deliberately slapped his tail over Renji's mouth. "Not askin' 'bout who?" He tilted his head, and counted on his claws, trying to figure out who he'd left out.

The bouncer looked from Gin to Renji several times before shaking his head. "Sorry G. He ain't kiddin, an' I know better than ta let mah demon-child fin' out _that_."

Renji managed to, despite the tail, wear a distinctly smug expression.

Gin glared over his shoulder, a decidedly wicked expression, and drifted closer to the redhead. "Well, if he's not allowed ta finish th' sentence, then ya'll jus' hafta do it fer him. Or wouldja rather I dove inta yer mind again? I just _love _learnin' 'bout yer ex's." He purred dangerously.

Renji gave him a dark glare and opened his mouth to reply with something caustic but was cut off and interrupted before he could.

"Oi! Rage! I thought'cha quit!"

Renji blanched.

"Rrrrage?" Gin purred again, stepping down from his cloud to saunter over to the stranger. "Who is Rage?"

"Red Rage—him!" The man pointed to Renji, who was already taking a step back. "He's the club's Fighter, but he jus' disappeared one night, word was he quit. Christ, nothin' sexy as him stalkin' up on stage an' takin' control right after a fight, still sweaty and bloody from the battle, ready ta fuck shit up..." the man shuddered, toes curling. "Never could figure why he'd quit."

"Oh, really now..." The kitsune prowled back to the redhead with a strange smile, stranger than his typical fox-grin. "Zat why ya itchin' fer a fight there, Tiger?"

Renji growled under his breath. "...Mebbe part o' it. M'broke so th' cash don't hurt either."

Gin chuckled, "Well, then let's scratch yer itch, Rrrrage." He purred on purpose, and the redhead felt his rear pinched by a phantom hand.

Renji swatted the air, growling fiercely when he realized it was a trick. The man who'd identified him as Rage leaned against the brick wall of the club, pulling his shirt away from his neck and panting hard as his eyes glazed over.

Gin giggled again, dancing from the redhead's glare with his signature grin. Then he caught sight of the stranger, "Mah...nii-san, daijoubu?"

"Mmmn, j-just...j-jus'...Rage's aura...mmmmfuck...the look in his eyes...so delicious," he moaned softly, just watching Renji, already anticipating the 'transformation'.

Renji was still growling a little, and his eyes were darkening slowly. All that was needed to complete the picture, to create his Rage, was to let his hair down, furrow in his tattooed eyebrows, and lose the shirt. Maybe add some blood and bruises.

The kitsune purred again, "Mah! He is scrumptious, i'n't he? But I think..." Suddenly the hair-tie holding back his ponytail snapped, and the knot on his bandanna slipped. "Much better, ne?" He giggled again, holding to two offensive articles somehow magically in his hand, as the crimson strands broke free.

Renji's growl intensified, eyes going dark and dangerous, and the stranger melted against the wall climaxing messily in his pants. "There he is," he panted softly. "There's Rage."

"OH, Tiger-san." Gin too began to melt. If he had wanted to be fucked by that creature before, now it was a million times worse. "Prrrrrr. Ken-chan! Find my Tora sum'un ta play wit'! He d'serves a treat fer puttin' up wit' me."

Kenpatchi gave Renji a look. "Which level, Red?"

Renji's voice was still thick with his growl. "Gold."

"Got it." From inside his coat, he withdrew a little black book with gold leaf on the edges of the pages. He scanned this for a moment before snapping it shut. "...Bya's due tanight."

Renji was visibly torn between anguish and pleasure for a moment before consciously settling on unholy glee. "Fuckin' perfec'."

"Bya?" The silver fox slid over to the mountain of a bouncer, "Bya? B-ya-ku-ya?" He let the smallest of slits in his eyelids glint ice blue, enunciating each syllable.

"Tha's 'im," Kenpatchi replied before his brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait...how do _you _know 'im, G? He don't work 'ere."

Renji was already striding away— going towards the separate club where the underground fighting ring was stationed.

Gin gave Kenpachi the grin that he reserved only for those that would die by his claws. "He hurt m' Tiger. He hurt 'im bad, Ken-chan. Nobody gets away wit' hurtin' what's mine. Ya know tha'."

His form shifted, two of his tails disappearing as he walked, and grew slightly taller, more the height of an average man than that of a woman. Before clothing covered his frame, a kosode, shitagi, hakama and haori from the Edo Era, the bouncer watched corded muscle ripple gently betraying the hidden physical strength of the kitsune. He waved with his tail, following his redhead.

Kenpatchi was left to wonder if it was a good or bad thing the kitsune had claimed Renji—and who it was good or bad _for._ Byakuya...well, he'd be lucky if he lived.

Renji only gave Gin a glance to be sure he kept up, body language all power and anger and aggression, lithe muscle moving under tanned, tattooed flesh much like the tiger the fox called him. Internally the fox demon purred, but he let it be translated into a low, predatory growl, the slits of his eyes glowing slightly in the darkness of the underground chamber. It was certain they would be beacons if he allowed his lids to open all the way.

"Tiger, Tiger, burnin' bright...ne, Tora?" He rumbled, near the redhead's ear.

Renji's gaze burned through the darkness, a red glow the color of blood. "Like a demon in the night," he purred in reply, sensual and dangerous, for once enunciating very precisely despite the word change. "Put me on the roster," he barked at the pit boss, who took one look at Renji and started to shake.

"Y-yes, sir! Wh-who will y-you be—"

"Kuchiki," he snapped, feline quickness at work.

"Got it!" The man replied, voice high and frightened as he pressed back into the wall.

Gin very, very much liked the change in wording. Oh yes, this was one he'd enjoy once he'd caught him. "Go get 'im, Tiger."

The kitsune let his power trail over the lines of ebony, stained over golden skin, lighting each one on fire for a moment to make his wildcat truly appear as dangerous as he was, then made his way silently to the spectators seats. He'd let the scorned lovers fight alone for a while, but if things looked to turn deadly, at least on the part of his redhead, he'd intervene and mete out the kind of justice only the Abyss could create.

Byakuya had to have been surprised to see Renji, but Renji didn't care. He was finally confronting the source of his greatest internal pain. The anger, the betrayal, the pent-up passion, even the desperate love he'd held was a swirling hurricane in the depths of his soul, melding into an endless surge of adrenaline and spurring on a torrent off sheer _rage_. How dare Byakuya do it! Take his love, his _virginity_, all he had to give, and give back nothing but pain and—when his family found out and demanded he break off the relationship—cold indifference?! Renji prepared in the 'waiting area' for fighters—he was naked to the waist, his feet were bare, his hair was pulled into a tight, low braid, and he had donned his trusty brass knuckles on heavy hands. To most, wearing brass knuckles 'raw', without gloves or any other protective covering, was stupid as they'd cut up their hands. Renji had...a unique protection, metal implants in his knuckles, just barely below the surface of the skin. They worked to brace the back, flat edge of the knuckles. He needed his fingers free to grab.

The announcer called the fight, bringing a roar from the gathered crowd. This late in the night all of the patrons, save one, were plied with ample doses of alcohol, and the news that Rage was back in the ring pitted against the only fighter who'd ever come away from the redhead's furious assault unscathed had the drunken slogs caterwauling and raising the roof. The raucous noise brought an already haughty brow even further up the porcelain ridge than it had been. Truly seeing his ex-lover again after all this time was something he'd never have expected, and the worthless monkey had the nerve to try and step into the ring with him?!

Sweeping through the entrance tunnel to the steel-mesh cage that protected the onlookers as much as it trapped the competitors, his disdain for the place wrinkled his nose. His waist length ebony hair flowed freely, something the heel was proud of, and his loose over-robe gave him the appearance of a prince from long ago. Kenpachi and another bouncer, a black man with a strange star-shaped afro, opened the gates to allow his entrance. He relished in the equal measures of booing and cheering he received, and allowed a small, haughty smirk to grace his lithe features when the lock slid back into place behind him.

"So, we meet again, Rage. Come to jump once more at the moon?"

In a move completely uncharacteristic of the man, Renji did _not _reply, nor trash-talk. He simply snarled, wordless and guttural. Gin could understand it, especially at the volume he was using, but in the audience, the vulpine man did nothing but watch. There was something on the air…something heavy, like the scent of blood, and it drew his attention like all other sins. His Tora's name was Rage, but his Sin was Wrath, and it was thick, like a gravy in the air—spicy and burning at the kitsune's nose.

Renji's eyes burned the deepest red, lip curling to bare his teeth and he paced his corner, malice rolling off him in waves. Typically, he carefully policed himself. Never went too far. He didn't want somebody's death on his conscience, after all. But tonight, he'd figured it was okay to slip his leash. Just this once. Against just this person—the strongest fighter he'd ever matched up to. At least, while keeping himself in check. The crowd, the arena, even Gin had ceased to exist to this creature of rage and violence. All that remained was Byakuya and the Bell that would tell him it was time to start his assault.

The noble's eyes darkened, and the corners creased, but there was no more time to think as the bell sounded and Hell broke loose. Byakuya whipped his haori off, revealing the near skin-tight uniform of a shinobi. He'd be crushed if he allowed that animal within his safe zone, but first the red haired beast had to break through his thousand blades. Already palming enough steel to make a blacksmith cry, the lithe fighter's first move was to run up the wall of the cage, flinging razor-sharp shuriken at his opponent.

"In no mood to chit-chat tonight? Pity, I've missed your tongue."

_No?! I thought you'd ripped it out just like my fucking heart,_ He roared in an animal's harsh snarl, already on the move—also up the cage walls, weaving and dodging as he climbed and leapt like some insane, furious monkey. _Was why I could never fucking TALK to you, get shit straight! I'd like ta see ya keep smooth-talkin' those fucking bitches the elders set ya up with if I took YOUR tongue!_ He blocked a blade headed for his face with his arm and swung his body, letting go with one hand so his considerable weight was flung clear across the cage, leaping straight at Byakuya in a head-on charge.

So this would be personal. He'd feared it would be when he saw the roster. No matter, he'd clear away this lump of waste as he had every other obstacle that had attempted to stand in his line of sight. His foot caught the redhead in the bread basket, and they rolled, somehow, along the roof of the cage, blood splattered from where the petal-shaped blade had sliced bronzed flesh. He had out another handful of shuriken flying directly at the beast's chest, following through in the motion to return his grip to the steel mesh, glaring with a lock of hair trailing across his face.

Renji smiled—a grim, frightening thing, more of a cross between a grimace and a baring of teeth than a smile—because despite the breath having been forced out of him, he recovered all too easily. Unlike Byakuya, Renji's style, and his 'training', if it could be called it that, had been down-and-dirty, right-up-close-and-personal, no-holds-barred and cheap-shot-loaded brawls and fights. And Byakuya was _up close and personal_. His hand darted out with unnatural quickness and he took the hits, both of his big hands enclosing Byakuya's smaller, daintier ones in his own as gravity caught them and they began to plummet to the ground with nothing to support them. Renji's knee got between them and he used his weight once again to his advantage, wedging his knee as firmly as he could into the noble's diaphragm and—thank you, physics—Byakuya was pushed to the bottom and hit the cement back-first, Renji's knee still squarely in the bottom of his ribcage, a Satanic grin on his mouth and something burning dangerously in his eyes.

There was a sickening crack as horror flashed through silver-grey eyes. There was nothing he could have done to prevent the ground rushing up at them, and the impact, when it happened, brought a violent cough, filled with blood, up and out of those china-fine lips. The crimson spittle sprayed across his ex-lover's face, dripping back down onto him in rivulets. It was everything that had first drawn him to the wild, red-haired man, but the flash of agony, not wholly born of physical injury, across his features was squashed as quickly as it came, though a deep-seated fear held that vulnerability in the edges of his vision. Heartbeats that lasted longer than the universe passed before he twisted his double-jointed wrists to free his hands. He felt bone grind against bone, and grit his teeth against the sensation in favor of sliding a blade across the soft part of Renji's chin.

Renji jerked his chin up, but refused to surrender his prey by actually retreating. His hands, now free, slammed the other's shoulders down and in two quick, painful, but efficient movements, dislocated both of Byakuya's arms at the shoulder, rendering the arms useless, the nerve signals interrupted. This was—this was wrong. Renji, this lost in his rage, should _not _have had the mental capacity to know that he needed to disable Byakuya's arms. He sat up, blood dripping freely from his chin onto the noble, down his neck, thick red trails winding through his tattoos. Sitting on the slim hips and pinning his legs with his own from a sort of seiza position, Renji began to pick the blades out of his chest, that twisted grin still on his face. He almost seemed to relish the pain.

He was quickly approaching the point of no return. If he was allowed to pass it, he could never live with himself afterwards, and somewhere inside he knew it. That part made him look thoughtful, though still demented, as he pulled out one of the blades and flicked it away.

"Y'know...these things 'r miiiiiighty effective. If yer opponent ain't a tank." He picked out and flicked another, nonchalant. "An' yer speed, well, ain't what it used ta be is it? I c'n remember ya movin' faster than that when I told ya I wan'ed ta git naked. Tsk tsk. Fer shame. How _could _ya let yerself fall quite," he disposed of another blade, "so far?"

The last 'petal' he picked out of his chest he held and twisted between his fingers as though contemplating it as Byakuya coughed again, blood trickling down his chin. The noble knew he had at least two cracked ribs. He couldn't feel his hands, or his feet, and something in his back was pinching something it shouldn't be. His eyes were hard, and he let the blood in his throat pool in his mouth. Then he slipped his tongue around his cheek, arched what he could of his spine and neck, and spat, the tiniest of his blades surrounded by crimson fluid, straight into Renji's eye.

Renji reared back with a howl of agony, spine nearly bending in half backwards, and roared in both pain and rage as his hands fisted—one hit Byakuya in the collarbone, having used his reared-back position to gather force, and it shattered like a dry twig. The other planted itself in Byakuya's chin, snapping his neck to the side—just barely not far enough to knock him out, so he was fully conscious, and dizzy-headed, as Renji's huge hands wrapped around his skinny, porcelain neck, Renji's eye glued shut with blood and the jelly-like substance that should have been inside the eyeball. There would be no saving his eye...and unless someone got in there _damn _quick, there would be no saving the bastard who'd just ruined his vision either.

"Th-thank...you...R-renji..." The noble gurgled, blood and mucus filling his throat as his wind-pipe was crushed. "I...l-loved...you...m-most." His eyes rolled back into his head and he convulsed, twice.

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**A/N 2:** AH! Don't hate us, please...T^T We're giving you smut in the next chapter! Promise!


	4. The Awakening: Chapter 4

**A/N:** As promised, here comes the smut! Three whole chapters of it! For the squeamish, well...if you're squeamish you shouldn't read this story...cuz the darkness will come back after the smut. So, yeah, here's your warning: explicit smut! Though there is plot development. Oh, and it should be noted that the first 6 chapters happen all at the same time. The dawn at the end of this chapter is the same dawn at the end of the next one and the one after that. Just so nobody's confused. Ja ne, minna.

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While Renji was being lured in by the Other Side of the Ouija board, Grimmjow was busily locking the door and divesting himself and his boyfriend of their clothes. His fingers itched to get on his lover's tanned skin, his temples ached with want of Ichigo's fingers raking through his hair. His Ichigo had Contracted him to fuck him until one of them passed out, and he damn well intended to do it!

"Mmm...Grimm..." Ichigo spoke between furious kisses. "What's...gotten...Mmm...into you?"

All he could do was be ravished, the blue haired college senior's hands were everywhere, touching, groping, and caressing. They were passionate lovers to begin with, arguing sometimes _just_ to have rough, angry sex, but this was a whole new level, sweeping the orangette along like a kite in the sky on a windy day.

"You," he nipped at his lower lip, "made me deal an'," he licked from jaw to ear, "I fully intend ta hold up," he worried his earlobe with his pointed canines, "my end o' it."

He didn't know why, exactly, but Ichigo's 'summoning' of him had caused an instant boner, and he had been drawn towards the bedroom as if possessed. Well, no, he knew why—that was just the effect his little lover had on him in general. But really, even he didn't know why he was so rushed all of a sudden.

Ichigo groaned, gripping Grimmjow's hips. His own arousal slid against his boyfriend's, drops of precome slicking the friction. "Can we...ngh...can we slow down...at least a little? I'm not gonna..." He moaned again, "Not gonna last, Grimm."

"Awww," Grimm pouted, "an' here I thought we was gunna have 'nother competition."

The Completion Competition, or so it had been termed, was a 'game' they'd played on a bet to see how many times they could make each other come in a single encounter. Grimm had gotten up to six. Ichigo had made it to fifteen, but that last one had knocked the orangette unconscious. Grimmjow had been forced to carry him to bed on wobbly legs. Regardless, he obediently slowed down a bit, his grinding becoming less frantic as his hands kneaded his lover's side.

The orangette laughed, "I have finals next week, I need to study. I can't afford to be passed out for three days again."

He pulled them from their position just inside the bedroom door, down onto the bed, wrapping his legs around Grimmjow's. Nuzzling along the blunette's neck, he licked the tattooed strawberry that had been their anniversary gift to each other. He swore it tasted the way it looked, and he simply could not get enough of sucking on it. Often, it was bright red and surrounded in blue-black because of the sheer number of hickeys Ichigo left. He'd turned the thing into a purple strawberry once or twice, but he didn't like that look—not after the Yumichika Incident—so he tended to leave hickeys all around it now.

Grimmjow groaned, head listing to the side a bit to give his boyfriend better access, but his hands were itching again. They trailed down to grab, then massage Ichigo's ass-cheeks as he purred, husky and dark, in Ichigo's ear. "Damn shame...mebbe that'll be m' after-finals present to ya, eh? Three days o' uncompromised bliss."

"Ooh...Grimm..." His hips hiked, it felt like claws digging delicious pleasure into his flesh, and he responded by gripping his boyfriend's shoulders in the same manner. He took the lobe of Grimmjow's ear, the one above the tattoo, into his teeth, and growled. "Get the vibrator."

_Grimmjow _vibrated at that command. "Ohh, oh fuck, yessir," he growled, dropping Ichigo to the bed, yanking open the drawer, and rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for—remote-controlled, vibrating egg and the lube. His kitten preferred to get kinky the natural way—with odd positions and some erotic rope tying—so he didn't get to use toys on him all that often.

Ichigo growled seductively, pulling out his favorite jute rope from the bag tucked behind the bed. He began by wrapping his left ankle three times, for a single column of six individual ropes just above the joint. The doubled cord was then brought in a stunning feat of flexibility to wrap around his leg three times, spiraling up to the knee. He pulled the ends under and around itself down the outside of the loops to end in a woven sakura-style knot near his ankle again. After repeating this process with a second rope on his right leg, it became more difficult to complete himself. However, his modified matanawa was an absolute must. So, out came a third rope, somewhat shorter than the other two, around his waist once, through the lark's head, and tied off in quick succession with two half-hitches six inches apart. A sakura-knot almost a foot down the cord allowed for him to slip his cock and scrotum between the twisted bindings. He moaned audibly when the bunched rope pressed against his perineum as he drew the two parts around his bound thighs, up through the gap between half-hitches at his waist, and tied off in a second sakura-weave along where his happy trail would have been if he didn't shave it.

Grimmjow played with the egg as he watched, his own jutting length weeping freely at the intensely arousing and erotic sight before him. He lubed the egg, holding himself back—if he interrupted the rope-tying, Ichigo would untie it and start all over again just to draw it out and make him wait. He hated that, but loved how the delay heightened his desire, especially when the strawberry made himself moan just by moving.

Which he did when the orangette rolled up onto his knees so his lover could aide in the next part—the kotobu ryo tekubi. Literally it was his wrists bound both together and behind his head. The end of his freedom and the actual handing of control over to Grimmjow.

As the blunette wrapped the cords first lightly around the strawberry's wrists and then around itself to create the shackles, he spoke. "I had an idea, Ichi..."

He helped the bound berry turn to face away from him. Then brought his kitten's hands up behind his head, and wrapped the excess around his waist just above the top of his crotch binding to end with an overhand knot flat against Ichigo's back.

"What's that?" The orangette tilted his head a little bit, so he could look over his shoulder.

"I found somethin' th' other day." Grimmjow explained, bringing the two ends of rope up to knot a second time, just under the wrist binding, before being threaded through the space between Ichigo's elbow and neck on each side.

The ends were then brought down across the strawberry's chest to wrap twice around both waist ropes and back around his ribs to the gap between knots on his back. Grimmjow tucked the ends between the two ropes and brought them back around, under Ichigo's arms to criss-cross just above his nipples. Back around again, this time to snag the upper waist rope in the back and to the front a third time. The blunette grasped the place where the four cords crossed each other over Ichigo's sternum, and tied a square knot. The dangling ends he wrapped back a third time to add a hexagon shape to the gap between the ropes against his kitten's spine. To finish the new binding, he brought the last feet of rope around to tie a second square knot on the starburst on Ichigo's chest, making sure to run the lines below the orangette's nipples for extra stimulation.

Ichigo looked down with a raised eyebrow; he thought he had read all of the books on the traditional knot-tying they had in the apartment. "That's new. Where'd you learn that one?"

"One of those pop-up American porn sites. They had an interesting bondage section," he admitted with an unashamed grin. "Lots of stuff on safety, and some of it I hadn't seen before, so I browsed a while."

"And you didn't share?! Did you at least save the address?" The orangette looked back up at his lover, trying to ignore the way the jute cords rubbed in all the right places.

Grimmjow grinned like a fiend. "Oh, it's in my favorites, I bookmarked it. Just kept forgettin' ta tell ya. Got some good shit on there, though. We keep gettin' distracted...an' we totally need ta watch porn together again. We have some'a our more enthusiastic sex when we're unconsciously tryin'a outdo the porn stars."

The smaller male rolled his eyes at the seme's chuckle. To think, four years ago he'd been a blushing prude. He supposed that dating someone who was literally sex-on-legs helped that. His hands were already twitching because he could smell the musk of Grimmjow's pheromones and his tongue slid out to lick his lips unconsciously.

"Yeah," He agreed absently, "Later."

Grimmjow licked his own lips. "I think I'm ready ta enjoy my treat now..."

Slathering lube on his fingers, he rubbed them a minute or two to warm it up before sliding two fingers into Ichigo's entrance, feeling how tight he was and how much stretching he needed to take the egg.

Ichigo moaned, loud and long, pressing his head against the rope between his wrists and arching his back with his toes dug into the sheets. His cock wept, twitching between the two bundles of knot-work holding him erect. Grimmjow licked his lips as his lover, his mate, writhed in their shared creation, stretching him slowly. Drawing it out, deliberately missing his prostate.

"Ngh...Grrrrimmmm..." The name was a moan as the orangette's toes curled even further.

This was the main reason they'd gotten into shibari in the first place. If not for the bindings, Ichigo would have been all over his lover and the whole thing would be finished too soon, because Grimmjow was extraordinarily weak to his vibrant boyfriend. To both his touch and his aura. To everything about him. The smaller man could destroy him, all his hard-won stamina, in mere moments. He licked his lips at the name and added a third finger, using liberal application of lube. This had Ichigo whimpering and biting his lip against the sound. His skin flushed and the ropes created a pattern in the color. In a word, like this, the orange haired uke was exquisite.

Grimmjow did his best to imprint it into his mind permanently, without deviating from his task. He was on a mission tonight, and he wasn't going to let anything, no matter how delectable, or amazing, turn him aside.

Hiking his hips again, Ichigo's legs bent at an impossible angle. A single brush against his prostate had his body clenching in a false release, the knots around his manhood holding him back, and the flesh of the turgid length darkened to a soft purple. He cried out, tears pricking the corners of his eyes with the pleasure of it.

This sight made the blunette purr loudly, taking the egg and sliding it, still lubed, up inside his lover until it was positioned right on his prostate. Then, pulling back, he pulled the other onto his knees again, so he could see his face...and turned it on.

The orangette's eyes went wide, gasping and fingers curling to echo his toes. He was sweating and panting, every breath a moan or whimper. He bucked unconsciously against it, trying to find that deeper penetration that he knew he wouldn't get until Grimmjow actually fucked him, but he couldn't stop himself anyway. He'd asked for this, and oh, did his lover know how to give it to him. The larger male held him solid and upright, watching him buck and strain against the ropes, which rubbed deliciously in all the places.

Begging eyes rolled up, dark and glossy in lust, as the vibration was increased. His body shuddered, not quite a second false release but waves of pleasure ran through him, making his nerves jump and his cock darken with fat pearls of precome making the head shine. Long-fingered hands thumbed these glistening droplets, smearing them around and smirking as the orangette gave his lover the most pleading looks yet. Oooh, he really was needy tonight, and he wasn't even quite sure why. Grimmjow gave him a couple of strokes, tongue running across vicious teeth like a large cat anticipating prey.

"T-t-taste it?" Ichigo's voice wavered as he panted, his twitching pulling the knots across his pressure points in ways that added to the vibration against his prostate.

Grimmjow's tongue flickered out, catching the pearly drop and tasting it thoroughly, before pulling back and stroking again with his hand. "Like that, love?"

"Mmmmnah!" The orangette tensed again, his mouth falling open and eyes closed. "Yeah~!" He gasped, "M-mmore...?"

His heels dug into his asscheeks, and a small wiggle made his entrance stretch such that he could manipulate the vibrator, now on its highest setting, in waves. Catching sight of this shift, the blunette leered, and swatted the taut cheek right above where his heel was holding it tight.

"Ah, ah, ah," he moved Ichigo's leg, "none of that. Trying to take control away from me, you naughty thing. You know better." Grimmjow licked his head again, cleaning away the light shine of precome on it.

The whimpering sound that Ichigo made could have been triggered by any combination of what his lover did, from the punishment to the feel of his tongue to the sound of his voice, but whatever it was that did it, he couldn't control it as it tore from his throat simultaneously with another false release, this one higher and stronger than before.

The blunette simply smirked, tugging on the star design as he came up, bringing Ichigo in to kiss him. He was going to tease him a while longer before he let him come. The orangette curled his tongue around Grimmjow's, moaning into the kiss and trying to get at least a moment of friction, only to be denied. The frustration build for the most satisfying orgasm, he knew, but being pushed like this drove him crazy.

Grimmjow pulled back, running his fingers along the spaces between the bindings, deliberately teasing him, pausing to pluck his nipples, then to lick at them, before once again trailing down to his cock. He was mush, a pile of goo held together by the cords around his body, clinging to him and holding him tighter than any embrace. This was why he did it, because of the way it kept him anchored while his lover tried to make him fly. He mumbled incoherently, moaning and gasping with each touch.

Ignoring his incoherent, incomprehensible ramblings and mumbling, the seme continued his touching. It meant he was doing his job, and was nearing the state he wanted his lover in. His temples were aching and itching again, and so was his spine, his entire body shuddering in anticipation, even his toes curling and his calves itching. It was odd, but he ignored it in favor of teasing Ichigo's balls with one hand and licking at his head again.

A lick against the underside of his cock that felt like velcro pulling against the sensitive skin and Ichigo cried out, "Lisse' atara en' templa!"

His head fell back, his eyes closed and his spine arched at an impossible angle. The air around them darkened until the only light was between them, flickering and pulsing in time with the blood in their veins, like that of a candle.

Grimmjow did it again, muscles bunching in preparation for _something _as he aimed to bring his lover over the false edge again before actually thrusting into him. There was a pulse of light across Ichigo's vision as his body reacted to that sensation of velcro again, this time falling forward until his chin touched his chest.

"Mool...en' i' Lower Rings...ten' i' mela...en' ilya nat aina'...fuck amin!" He mumbled,unaware he was speaking in tongues.

Just to finish him off without actually finishing him off, the blunette took him into his mouth, being careful of his teeth, as he slicked the underside of his tongue over the hard, delicious cock...which was somehow more flavorful than usual...he shifted on his knees, eager to watch his love be flung over that edge.

Pleasure ripped through the orangette, he screamed, but made no sound, and _something _followed that wave, just barely held back. He spoke again, panting, but no words came out. He must have been deaf with as far as Grimmjow had teased him, but it didn't matter as his hands grasped thing air that felt like his lover's shoulders, long, red slashes appearing where his nails would have torn the skin if he hadn't been bound.

Grimmjow arched, snarling as he shot up, long, red slashes appearing on both shoulders, rending flesh and blood dripping everywhere, scenting the air, and he whipped Ichigo around and bent him forward, three long fingers slamming into his slick entrance to fish out the egg, then return to mash his prostate like a game controller button.

Ichigo did it again, grabbing at the air that felt like flesh under his fingertips. This time soothing, smearing the blood as though the bindings weren't there, creating symbols and runes in languages the orangette wouldn't have been able to recognize even if he could see through the opaque film covering his vision. But they glowed, yellow, blue, red, and green across the back of Grimmjow's shoulders, burning into his skin and sending off fireworks through both of their minds.

The spell-gripped man all-out roared, elongated ears slicking back as far as they went as he planted his teeth in a free spot on the orangette's neck, biting hard as he could no longer stand waiting. He thrust in, hard and deep, dick already lubed, growling into his neck.

"Mine." Ichigo whispered in the turquoise furred ear near his mouth.

His tongue snaking out to run along the outer edge, and gripping his bound knees to Grimmjow's hips. Clenching his fingers again the symbols on the feline demon's back began to etch themselves into his chest, glowing faintly.

This only spurred Grimmjow to thrust harder, faster, his 'itch' spiraling to a point of pain all over his body, the closer he got to climax the more his whole body screamed, in pain, in pleasure, in protest, in encouragement, until all he knew was his dick plunging in and out of that tight passage, ravaging it, fucking Ichigo as hard and fast as he could without so much as a semblance of humanity involved.

The only thing holding the magic-user back from climax was that twisted rope surrounding his privates, but with each thrust, grinding against his lover, the threshold was being pushed closer and closer. His dick screamed for release and clamping his teeth on the lobe of that ear, Ichigo muttered something incomprehensible, but everything began to glow, building with their pleasure, closer and closer, brighter and brighter.

The blunette's hands took hold of Ichigo's hip's, holding on hard, and the closer he got to orgasm, the tighter he held, until—screaming into Ichigo's neck where his teeth were still clamped, Grimmjow thrust as deep as he could get and erupted, the claws on his fingers roughly severing the ropes around the slim hips under his hands.

Light exploded both psychically and physically as Ichigo came between them. He made no sound, body frozen beyond gripping his mate tightly. His mind was completely overwhelmed with a force brighter and more powerful than sheer pleasure, taking him soaring more than usual. He was free, absolutely and completely, and falling through a wormhole of swirling colors. There was an intense pulling sensation, and then the world settled again. Around him, the feline male relaxed, their bodies sinking into a downy-soft bed.

"Mmm…" The blunette rumbled. "Home."


	5. The Awakening: Chapter 5

**A/N:** Konnichiwa, minna! Sorry this took a bit, but here is Chapter 2 of 3 of the smut! Just a small reminder, this is happening at the exact same time as the previous chapter, and the one that follows. Ja ne!

* * *

To say Shiro was shocked would be an understatement. To say he was thrilled would be so far out of left field that the thought might as well have been from the Other Side. However, as his wide gold eyes stared dumbfounded at the tumbling cherry of his cigarette getting smaller while the powerful wings of the demon above him carried them away from their perch, he clung to that naked being with all of his might. He wasn't afraid of heights, free-running rather precluded that sort of phobia, but this was HIGH. He'd never been this high in the air before. Even if he could get his mind to stop reeling and his heart to climb out of his throat, the wind tore away his voice before words could even form on his tongue.

Ulquiorra held him yet closer, arrowing through the sky at speeds faster than a bullet, and yet his particular aerodynamics made it possible to create a 'pocket' of safe space with his body, preventing the wind from shearing the flesh from the human's bones. The city, the sky, the world flashed by at speeds incomprehensible to the human mind, which Ulquiorra, fastest demon alive, navigated easily. He had a destination in mind—someplace safe, and dark, where he could enjoy his human in peace.

The flare of power upon crossing under the gates leading to the shrine set back in the woods outside of Karakura was unmistakable. Shiro's hand tightened slightly on Ulquiorra's chest. "I—I know this place. Uncle Pervert Hat talked 'bout it. Th' Senkai Shrine. It's called th' Sacred Gates. Why're we here?"

"Because none can visit harm upon another here…and you are mine," his voice was a low thrum in his chest as he winged his way between pillars. "I have caught you and I will let no other touch you. Or take you away. The best place to ensure you remain mine is to bring you here. I cannot take you to my Tower, nor would I if I could...this is the next best thing."

"Uh...wow..." Shiro blinked.

Shifting slightly so he could reach his gauntlet with his other arm, the albino twisted a gemstone that floated freely in a socket on the back. His costume for the night was that of the mages of old, gauntlets made of metal, a shirt with embroidered symbols on cuffs and neckline, breeches tucked into supportive boots, and a medallion engraved with more of the same symbols that adorned the rest of his clothing. To the mundane world, he just looked like a pirate or possibly a dashing hero from the Renaissance, but twisting that almost clear bead opened the channels of his clothing to respond to the ley lines that traveled under the shrine. Oh yes, magic was not lost to humans in this age of technology, but most were like the rest of his pathetic group, ignorant as babes-in-the-crib.

Ulquiorra's body rippled and shuddered and he slowed considerably. "Ah...please, do not...do that when I'm flying. It..." He shivered and lost a foot of height before recovering, "affects me negatively."

He found the alcove, the darkened, but spacious and comfortable niche, he was looking for and glided in to land, toe-talons distinctly curled. He, of course, recognized Shiro as a mage. And he would make sure everyone else knew this mage was claimed, which was partly why they were in this particular spot. It was situated directly on the Personal Ley Line that was keyed specifically to Ulquiorra's magical signature. It had been a lockdown precaution he'd taken before dying and being cursed, one he was glad of. It meant the bastards who had taken advantage of him over the years couldn't use it for themselves.

"A, gomene." Shiro apologized again, blushing slightly.

He'd never been this far into the shrine before. Though he didn't like to admit it, he was a bit of a coward when it came to the supernatural. Not only was he aware of his own limitations, he was painfully aware of the fact that creatures much, MUCH more powerful than he roamed the worlds, especially in place of power like this one. He winced slightly, a hand briefly touching his temple before he covered the motion by running his fingers through his hair. His eyes hadn't always been stained black, but these days, only he remembered that fact. The nue that followed Renji had bitten him when it realized he could see it, and the poison from the snake-head's fangs had both inverted the sclera in his eyes, and permanently dyed his fingernails black. One he could cover with nail polish, and he did so often, but the other...well that had taken a memory spell he'd crafted calling on Dionysus, for his power of suggestion, and Loki, for the ability to deceive even those closest to him. It wasn't something he liked to brag about, in spite of the power of the spell, and it had made him possibly over-cautious regarding exploring his talent for tapping into the ley lines around him.

Ulquiorra braked as gently as he could, set down, and put Shiro on his own two feet. He used his hand to tilt Shiro's chin up, and kissed his forehead—right over his Third Eye. He, being demonic, had been able to see the changes from the first. He found them intriguing.

"Come. We never set a term for what would happen if I caught you. Thus, I am going to Mark you," He said firmly. "You are a powerful mage, even as inexperienced as you are. You could help me find my Key. And I might be able to help you with that pesky little venom problem of yours. Nue are so needlessly aggressive."

Shockwaves tore through his already opened power centers, and the albino purred, the sensation rippling through his core and straight to where all such power ends up, the Sacral Chakra.

"Y-ya know? O'course ya know." He scoffed at himself. "Yer one o' th' Four."

Being in this place was making him a little power-high, causing him to burble a little, and reveal parts of himself that he would normally keep under wraps. It was why he'd opened his symbols in the first place, walking through a place as heavy in magic as this was with closed gateways was just asking for a reaction headache.

"Exactly," Ulquiorra replied.

He darted back and forth, quick as could be from one side of the room to the other, gathering dried herb bundles from magical storage, bringing candles for the cardinal points, as well as a ritual athame and a spell-book he kept wrapped securely in the curve of his tail. He guided Shiro into the center of his Power Pool and began to set up a spell circle around him, drawing in the stone with a black chalk that glowed purple on the floor as it gathered power.

"Should I take my clothes off? I know a lot o' this Markin' stuff has to be done naked, an' my amulets might get in th' way." Shiro watched, very intrigued.

It came to him in the back of his mind that maybe he should say something about his suspicions regarding the First King and the fact that being Marked by one of the Four would be an extremely powerful spell for a novice like himself, but the simple fact that one of the Four wanted to Mark him blew his mind to bits. He wasn't just an interesting play-toy, this insanely powerful demon had decided that he was worthy of being his mate in most aspects. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine again, and a purr escaped his lips at the thought that he'd never again have to worry about rejection at the hands and hearts of pitiful humans.

"It would facilitate the Marking Ritual," Ulquiorra replied with that quirk of his lips.

He had a willing participant—lovely. He could Mark him fully then. He could admittedly Mark him in less...truly claiming ways, but then what was the point in the Mark? Everything placed, he stepped inside the Circle, closed it, and began to approach, as the white summoner quickly disrobed, baring his pale flesh, branded with intricate, silvery, scars, to the moonlight.

"As with most things, this is a spell that requires verbal acknowledgement and consent- much like a Contract. Do you Consent to be Marked, to have your life bound to mine, to allow me access to your mind, heart, body, and magic, to share with me all that you are and have much of me shared with you in turn? The only replies are 'I Consent' and 'I do Not Consent', I warn you."

Shiro blinked, the weight of that question pressed heavily on his heart. His King crossed his mind, the bond they had, the connection that had lasted through their mother and grandfather's deaths, through the teasing and the bullying growing up, through the loss of their home when their father's medical clinic hadn't been enough to support four children, and finally through the hardships of college. He thought of the rift growing between them now that King had his Consort, and the way that more often than not he was left behind when the pair went out. The sting of how he looked in the eyes of those around him, and the fact that the only comfort he'd ever had outside of his King were the ancient texts he painstakingly translated after studying dead languages for so long that his vision would cloud over in exhaustion. Finally, he thought of the intricate carvings, etched into his alabaster skin, scarred over after having been irritated and re-opened enough times for the incantations to be permanent. The pain, and ache and utter loneliness that accompanied his studies. The answer was clear.

"I Consent."

Ulquiorra's wings flared high in arousal and pleasure as his eyes went dark and sharp. "You Consent to be Mine. In return, I pledge to be Yours. My strength will be yours to call on in need. My knowledge yours to utilize. My emotions yours to enjoy, few as they are. I know my pledge is not the same as a Contract nor Consent, but it is all I can offer for as long as I am cursed...and it will enable you to summon me outside of the Samhain." He kissed Shiro's Third Eye again, then his lips. "To continue the ritual, you must Confirm your Consent and my pledge thrice, preferably with kisses to seal each Confirmation."

Three was the magic number, after all—the magical 'back out clause' that made sure whoever was doing the spell were really doing what they meant to do. Knowing this, Shiro took the pale face that so matched his own into this hands.

He kissed Ulquiorra's lips, "I Consent."

Then he bent and kissed just below the hole in the demon's chest, "I Consent."

And finally he knelt to kiss the pitch fur that covered the other's Sacral Chakra. "I Consent."

From his knees, the albino blinked up into the poison emeralds of his demon and waited anxiously for the next step of the ritual. By kneeling, he had not only pledged to be Marked, but he had agreed to be the 'bottom' in the relationship, should it ever be more physical than what the ritual required. He had always been a horse for his King, and though the term 'riding' had been applied to who was impaled by whom, the one in control had always been his King. Well, now, even if he never 'rode' Ulquiorra in that manner, he would be controlled by his demon, and he wanted it made explicitly clear to the gods and everyone.

Ulquiorra's toes curled so hard his talons gouged into the floor. By all that was foul and unholy! His tail turned into a knot of flexible muscle and fluff. He shivered and gently pulled his fingers through the white hair, breathing, "And so you are Mine. Now, I may Mark you. In the circumstances, I wish to Mark you as fully and completely as possible. That will involve penetrative sex acts, biting and essentially flooding you with my magic. Do you Consent to this?"

"I Consent." It wasn't even something to think about any longer.

"Good. Now, kindly say '_servios_'," Ulquiorra said, eyes burning. "I cannot make love to you as long as my fur is holding me back, not until after you've been Marked and the curse registers you as 'allowed to touch me'. We can have fun with this form later, for the Marking I must be as human as I can get."

"_Servios._" The foreign word tickled his tongue and the power of it surged through his scars and symbols like wildfire, making him hard enough to pound nails.

There was a second ripple effect, this time much more distinct, and Ulquiorra threw back his head, snarling as his fur was forcibly retracted, tail disappearing, wings losing their light fur to grow scales instead, horns shrinking and untwisting until what was left was a man. A man with horns and wings and long, sharp black claws, green tear tattoos on his cheeks—and naked. Very naked. Ramrod-hard and naked.

Shiro wasn't even thinking any longer as that erection appeared in front of him. He immediately ran his hand along it, and drew the head into his mouth with a moan. He'd known this demon was worth playing with!

The sudden diving into the sex, into the pleasure, made Ulquiorra hiss and his wings fluttered, as did his eyelids, long fingers pulling through the albino's hair before fisting, not pulling but hanging on. It had been...a long time indeed.

Sucking deeper, Shiro inched forward, his hands leaving the glorious cock in his mouth to grip the slim hips for stability. He moaned again, his own groin tight and aching with need. After settling himself into a slow rhythm, he slid his tongue out to literally drool on his hand, then reached behind himself. Finding his own entrance and slipping his forefinger in to the knuckle was nothing, a procedure he'd done more times than he could count. Even the second was nothing, and his angle of sucking never changed. He rhythm faltered when he brushed his own prostate, but he covered it with a swallow around the delicious flesh in his mouth.

Ulquiorra was moaning like a two-bit slut, wings down on the ground behind him to function as supports as his knees trembled, eyes shut tight and hands shaking where they were fisted in the albino's hair.

"F-fuck..."

The tremble of power between them warned Shiro before the demon's scrotum could, and he pulled back, holding his balance by gripping the base of Ulquiorra's length firmly. His other hand was buried deep behind him, four fingers, and plenty stretched for the taking.

"How d'ya want me?" His voice was husky, roughened by heavy sucking and rumbling with the licks of a power that burned hot just under the surface.

"On a bed, but on your back will have to do," the demon purred huskily, eyes so dark they were nearly black. "I want to see every face you make. Every change of expression."

He gently pushed the other down, sinking to his knees and following him down, licking his lips in a manner more befitting a very different kind of demon, a much more vulpine version. The touch brought a moan from the albino's lips, but he happily lay back, spreading his legs and hiking his hips, eager to be filled. As soon as demon and mage were prone, he pulled Shiro's legs up on either side of his hips, kissing his mouth, his cheeks, and his eyes after coaxing him to close them. Still slick from Shiro's mouth, he slid easily inside his new lover and moaned deeply as his wings flared out and up.

The blue tongue, also a gift from the nue's poison, darted out to lap and accompany nipping teeth as the albino explored the demon-lover. Being filled was exquisite, a pleasure he hadn't felt in over three years as that was how long his King had been with the blue-haired Consort, and somehow knowing that this wasn't because the other felt pity for him, but actually wanted him, made the pleasure all the sweeter. He wrapped his legs around the other, silently begging him to move, and whimpering.

Ulquiorra nuzzled into his neck and gave him what he wanted—he began to thrust. His arms came around Shiro's back to hold him closer and he started to nip and lick at him. If he'd had his tail, he'd have been running the fluff sensually all over his skin.

The mage moaned, power surging through his veins. Every thrust was like taking a hit on a drug that sent him spinning into nothing and flying higher than a kite. And yet, this was better than any man-made substance he'd ever tried. He matched the rhythm, grasping with his blunt black nails, and moaning like a wanton whore.

Ulquiorra was chanting in his ear, a language so old and long-dead even Shiro didn't know it, the same set of words over and over. If asked, he would've been hard-pressed to give an exact translation; something like _I pray this never ends, I may love you and I want to own you forever, you are all mine_, in five or six words that he kept murmuring repeatedly, his thrusts speeding up as he bit Shiro's neck and soothed the red spot with his tongue.

Golden eyes shot open, glowing with the magic of the ritual. There was something...something important...burning in his core. He shifted his hips, bringing Ulquiorra's member deeper into himself, deep enough to thrust through his chakra. He moaned at the combination of sensations. Then, of their own volition his hands ran down the demon's spine to grip the place where his wings sprouted from his back. Beyond his orgasm, there was a deep magic building, something long forgotten and truly powerful. Unconsciously, Shiro pushed them towards it, hungering for it in a way that almost over shadowed his desire to be Marked.

Ulquiorra could resist no longer. He bit Shiro, drawing blood, and his magic was forced into the mage through the bite, the majority of it raging through them both in a loop that sank into Shiro's center and shoved them both headlong into that deep magic, past Marking, past even orgasm, straight into the heart of whatever it was within the other, driven and spurred on by the grip on the base of his wings—which contained one of Ulquiorra's own unique chakras, and lent him his incredible wing-speed.

The current of magic, on top of their furious pace, captured them both, wrapping around them in a golden, blinding light. If they climaxed, Shiro didn't notice as that power surged through his body greater than anything before. That deep place, that ancient spell, stole Ulquiorra's power, enveloped it in light and merged with it, overpowering the demon. The shrine shone in the darkness of the coming dawn like a beacon in the middle of an inky sea, and the flares of that sun-on-earth arced up into the sky, through the veil between worlds and out, awakening the other three of the Four from their millennial slumber. It was awe-inspiring. It was overwhelming. It left Shiro panting like a racehorse after the Triple Crown, and he could do nothing but lay underneath his lover, eyes blank but for the spark of leftover power.

"Wow..."

Ulquiorra was left atop him, panting, shuddering, body weak, and abruptly he realized something was very wrong. He tried to use a wing to level himself up and found they were not responding. He looked behind him—they were gone! His breathy cry of surprise was punctuated by, when he sat up, his own black nails being simply nails instead of claws, and his horns had disappeared entirely.

Shiro tiredly trailed a hand down his chest—his whole chest, with no hole or dark, inky, blood-like markings. "This mean ya don' wanna Mark me an'more?" He slurred a little.

Ulquiorra growled wordlessly and nipped at his neck, where his Mark was, big and bold, a gothic 4 in the same poisonous green as his eyes. Curse broken or not, he was still a demon, and Shiro was most definitely still his Marked. The albino chuckled, a wistful shiver in his voice.

"Okay then." He purred, wrapping an exhausted arm around his lover's shoulders as the first light of dawn over the horizon. A blade of fear crossed his features, as he realized that the night of Samhain was over, and his Contract had expired.

Ulquiorra turned one baleful eye on the dawn light, hissed, and drew a cloak of blackness over the room. "You will summon me again...after we sleep. For now, this stalling of night cover is all I can do. And in the next Contract, don't put such definite terms on when I must leave, ne?"

"Heh. Next time...I'll write it th' fuck down so ya can't leave 'nless ya want ta." Shiro grumbled sleepily, curling around his lover with another purr.


	6. The Awakening: Chapter 6

**A/N:** Chapter 3 of 3 for this section of smut. You all should know by now that I love playing with my boys too much to only give them one romp in the sheets. LOL Oh, if you missed in in the warnings, this chapter has the mention of mpreg and rape. It's also a little violent to start off with. Enjoy, minna! Ja ne!

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In the audience, Gin shot to his feet, dissolving into mist and ghosting through the bars of the cage. His vulpine hands were cold, and shocking out of nowhere, one on Renji's shoulder, the other over the ruined eye. "Enough, Tiger." He purred in the redhead's ear. "He's dead."

Renji started from the sudden, cold touch—the cooling, blood-sticky body beneath him—the points of needling, sharp pain in his chest and arm—the _vicious _pain in his eye and head, somewhat soothed by the cold palm. Who...what...He turned his head, remaining eye searching until he found the source. His voice was raw, soft, eyebrow furrowing.

"G...Gin...?" Byakuya's words would haunt him, later. Once he'd had a chance to process his jumbled, red-hazed memories.

"Shh, Tora, shh. Lemme work."

The Kitsune enveloped him in a cloud of his mist, the white substance cold and soothing, seeping into every cut. He'd be blinded on one side, but the pain could be eased, at least physically. Sad, brilliant blue eyes looked out of that fog that hid him from the audience, both sight and sound, "M'bright, bright Tiger, what a burden ya carry."

Renji breathed a deep sigh, frowning when he tried to open his right eye and found he couldn't. It was unresponsive. He reached up, trying to touch the spot and find out what was wrong. Why did it hurt so badly, though that was easing, and why couldn't he see out of it? "Gin...why can't I...?"

The kitsune held his paw over it. "Ya got hurt. I c'n't save it, but I c'n 'least speed up th' process. Ya won't hafta worry 'bout it itching much." With that the pain became furious itch, something deep and penetrating.

"NNngggahh!" The blade was still lodged deep in the soft tissue, and it resisted the healing process, damaging it as soon as it grew, new and soft, around it. Blood streamed, bright and hot, from beneath the lid and Renji hissed, shuddering and clinging to Gin. It still hadn't dawned on him that he'd well and truly killed someone. Destroyed him. Ended his life.

"I gotta get it out, Tora." Gin hissed, and _pulled _with something that wasn't strength—more like the mist that surrounded them.

The blade moved, slowly, inching, at a snail's pace, until it embedded itself in the vulpine's paw. Within the cloud the kitsune reverted to his more feral appearance, and the thick pad caught the tiny razor like cork on a needle.

"Ha. There." He smiled, though the expression didn't reach his eyes, which were amazingly open, bright, and clear with a message that Renji really didn't want to read.

"...Ow," Renji said softly, blinking his good eye.

There was something...strange washing over him. _Through _him. Something dark, and sweet, and Sinful. It was washing away the dull aches, and the guilt that had not yet taken full root was seized and flung far away, deep into his consciousness where it would not bother him, to become merely a point of curiosity. His tattoos darkened and rippled, extending further in preparation for the event his soul could feel coming, even if the rest of him could not.

When Gin pulled his hand away from the injury, cupping the petal-shaped blade, the eye underneath was filmed over in a milky dull red-the eye of a demon at rest. He sighed softly, eyes over-bright, and fully open in their sanctuary. If he was right, he didn't need to worry about the effect the captivating icy tone would have on the redhead. He scanned over him, taking in the subtle changes. Almost. He had almost pushed it over the edge.

He drew his empty hand down Renji's cheek, murmuring softly, and began to withdraw his mist cloud from around them, "M sorry it took me sa long, War."

Renji was confused—War? He was Rage, not—And then it hit. A sunburst of magical, spiritual energy flooded the town from the original center of power, the Shrine, and Renji's body froze for an instant before it convulsed, Awakening.

Nails extending into claws that raked and gouged the cement floor, Renji's eye once more burned the color of hellfire as the black tattoos went racing over his flesh, looking and finding their niches as conductors of his Power. Horns, multi-pronged with wicked curves and points, forced their way through his temples, branching above his head and over his back in the most offense-based protection, the most splendid war-helmet, ever conceived as from his back burst forth wire 'wings'—all that remained of his once-holy status. He howled, both from pain and from naked delight. He was Awake! He knew who he was at last! Better, he knew who—rather _what_—Gin was.

He turned on the fox, eye burning as he wrapped both strong arms around him, quicker than thought, and pulled him right up against his heaving, blood-soaked chest. He snarled, his hair tongues of flame licking the air, buffeted by the freed power whipping around them, "Mine."

The kitsune purred, and wrapped himself around his redhead. He licked blood and sweat from Renji's cheek, still approaching from the horseman's good side as he knew that the Vision of War would take some getting used to, and grinned "Oh, yes, Tiger. All yers. What say we leave th' humans beggin' fer more an' take this sum' place more private, ne?"

Renji's grin was all demon as he kissed the kitsune with the same fierceness with which he held him to his chest. "Sounds fuckin' perfect."

He rumbled in a gravelly growl, body lifting up onto the balls of his feet before, in a blast of speed that ripped the air, he was home. Not his human home, his _home_, in the Shrine, in his center of power, where he threw up a privacy ward, summoned his bed, and threw Gin down before tearing off his clothes.

"All mine," he repeated, voice lowering to a purr.

The kitsune drew his hands up to his chest, all playful innocence and trickery. He purred, "Gonna Mark me, are ya?"

"Damn fuckin' right I am, an' I 'spect ta be Marked in return, Foxy," he grinned, wings flaring as his pants disappeared with a flick of his wrist before he pounced.

"An' ta think, jus' a couple hours ago, ya didn' want me touchin' ya there." The silver haired male, took both hands and wrapped them around the pulsing, thick length above him, stroking gently while vibrant eyes watched the newly Awakened demon above him. His tongue snaked out to lick his lips.

Renji's eyelids fluttered before the vow came back to him at Gin's words. "Nnghaa, Fuck!" He pulled away, sitting up on his knees, hands raking through his hair until they hit and gripped the base of his horns. "Fuck! I can't believe I…so stupid…I-I-I can't. Damn me to the Abyss, I _can't_!" He looked positively forlorn, his expression suggested he was about to cry.

Gin propped himself up on his elbows. This was the first that the other had actually said anything useful about his shying away from the kitsune's advances. Up to now it had all seemed like playing hard to get, which only enticed the demon more, but this...this was something different.

He glared, "Whaddya mean ya 'can't'?"

"I...Byakuya hurt my human self so badly I...made a Vow." Renji's elongated ears drooped, and he wasn't looking Gin in the eye. Whatever his Vow had been—well, it was obvious Gin was _not _going to like it.

"A Vow? Not jus' a vow, but a Vow?" Ice became electric as the vulpine squinted his eyes. "Yer human form wasn' even aware o' magic, how could ya 'ave made a Vow?"

"Enough o' m' Knowledge carries over through my rebirths that my genetic mem'ry knows how ta make Oaths, Vows, an' th' like," the newly Awakened demon mumbled, fidgeting. "An—an' he really hurt me bad, baby. Enough ta...ta...ta..." his eyes squeezed shut as he delivered his horrifying, heart-breaking news. "Ta swear off all sex ferever."

The kistune shuddered, eyes going wide and horrified. "He...what?! How could ya?! Ya...'M gonna...sa help me, Tora...!"

He sputtered, pushing the much larger male back off of him, his own power growing and whipping around the room in a cold, icy wind that made the tribute candles flicker and put frozen condensation on the windows. His tails were still and bristled as he dropped the pretense of appearing human. Long, sharp canines took over his mouth as he bared his teeth. His conical ears lay flat against his head, and his claws dug into the tatami mats, worrying the tough straw when he landed on his feet to pace the room. After a few moments, he whirled on the redhead.

"Where is it? Vows al'ays leave a mark o' sum' kind. Where'd ya put it?"

He scanned every inch of Renji's skin, lifting his arms, his legs, spreading his toes, grabbing his horns to sift through his hair, pushing his still injured chin up to analyze the column of tattooed neck. All with a low growl and rough handling.

"S' on m'belly, where I saw it every day," he replied, with an 'eep' at being manhandled.

Though it was rough, now that his demon toughness was brought forth it wasn't really painful. But telling a sex demon he could never have sex with him? Never touch or take pleasure? Ohhh that was like telling the heroin addict there wasn't any when they were already going into withdrawal.

The symbol on his stomach was in a deep pink—the color of Byakuya's cherry petal blades, to remind him of why he'd made said Vow. It was a simple circle that swirled inward, with a diagonal bar across it indicating forbiddance.

Both hands on the redhead's shoulders and disregarding his new wings, the fox-man shoved him back onto the bed so his stomach was exposed. Glared frozen daggers at the sakura-colored mark, he growled low, and examined the accursed thing barely inches from where it stained his wildcat's skin. He sniffed it, snorted over it, traced the design with a claw just barely light enough to avoid cutting the flesh, and finally shifted his glare back up to the crimson double-vision of the demon beneath him.

"How could ya..." He rumbled, but it was unclear whether the repetition was painful or angry.

Renji's ears pressed back further in disappointment, sadness, and a deep, ringing pain; a soul-deep pain. "...There's a human sayin'...'ya can't rape th' willin'. Except ya can. Especially if yer 'willin' is a scared virgin an' when he pleads wit'chu ta 'stop', ya pretend ya din't hear 'im."

The kitsune ripped his head away, a growl, deeper and more violent than any he'd previously released tearing through the sacred buildings like a hound on the loose. The wind itself invaded the caretakers' beds, brought their dreams into nightmares, and filled the whole quarter of the city with a cold dread that none could quite name. Sex denied was one thing. Forced sex was something else again. Something that precious should never be twisted like that, and the vulpine demon made it clear. If the man wasn't already dead, he'd go back and teach him the true meaning of death.

It took several moments, but Gin composed himself with a shiver. "How 'xactly did ya say yer Vow, Tiger?"

His brows furrowed as he took a moment to call the words to mind. "...'I am never going to have sex," he enunciated clearly, "with anybody for as long as I live, be it oral, anal, vaginal, or any other way that can be devised.' That's what I said, word-fer-word. I never wanted ta feel hurt like tha' again, nor inflict it on anybody else."

A sly smile curled the fox-man's mouth and a spark of something lit his eyes. "Ya said 'anybody', righ'?"

Crimson and ebony ears perked—he was a creature of violence, not intelligence. The little kitsune seemed to be thinking something. "Yeah, s' what I said."

"I ain't 'anybody'. 'M yer 'key', Tora no ai." He purred, delicate claws running up the thick, corded muscles of the Horseman's legs while he slunk back up the bed. He chuckled deviously. "S' far as yer curse is c'ncerned…M jus' a tool, an object ta be used like an athame. Sa, whadya say, tiger-boy," He bent and ran his tongue along the inside of Renji's thigh. "What say we free ya o' that pesky bindin' sa ya c'n get back ta rulin' chaos an' destruction?"

Renji purred happily, body relaxing. "Oooh yes, let's, my Key," he growled, petting the other's hair and ears as his eye darkened with lust.

The kitsune's talented tongue trailed up the curves of quadracep to the hollow of the redhead's hip bones, and across to draw a line of fire up the re-awakening erection. Drawing the tip into his mouth, he swallowed it down, letting his mist flow around them in counter-point to the heat of his target.

Renji moaned hard and long, fingers twitching, claws picking at fabric and flesh alike as his back arched. "Nnmm, oh, Gin..."

Been a while, eh, Tiger? The question wasn't spoken, but it was on the air nonetheless, as the silver-haired male cupped the Horseman's scrotum, rolling the orbs gently, and thoroughly slicking the entire length of his manhood. Burning eyes met the mismatched crimson and cinnamon gaze above his relaxed conical ears. Both hands on Renji's hips as the kitsune surrounded them, creating a rhythm with his sucking that mimicked that of a tender lover riding the redhead, slow and sensually. He had to build the power slowly, bring it up through the toes and down from the scalp, the same way he would if he was going to devour his lover.

The lines of power streaked across his body began to glow softly, starting with his fingers, toes, and forehead as power was slowly, and gently, drawn up and out of him. Renji himself panted, long fingers tangling gently in Gin's hair, long claws lightly scratching his scalp. The most recent human life, the rape victim, was still close to him. This tenderness, this sweetness, it was easing that soul-hurt, the fear he was still carrying despite his previous lives in which sex had been good, and his Knowledge that Gin, as a sex demon, never took anything unwillingly. It soothed him, and the soft influx of power wasn't exactly hurting that.

Gin swallowed around his mouthful once, as the power began to reach the core of his lover's body, the ebony lines edged in deep red, like the angry skin immediately after being inked. He summoned a change to his saliva, creating the kind of lubrication he knew would be needed, then pulled back, though not away. His hands ran up Renji's sides, still gentle, and soothing, tracing the lines that had yet to be filled across the redhead's ribs and stomach.

"M gonna hafta take ya, Aiko. Ya hafta ride me ta Mark me, an' fer me ta Mark ya back. Ya know tha'." He purred, trailing cool kisses across his lover's heated skin.

Renji was flushed a light red across the cheeks and nose with pleasure, eyes half-lidded as he directed his soft gaze to his kitsune and his Key. "I do know...and you know just what to do to soothe my twisted instincts from my most recent life. I'm okay. Just...go slow."

The lines over his shoulders were glowing now, head and arm lines meeting at the neck and slipping over his collarbone, gentle, but insistent. The glow on his legs was already past his knees.

"I know, in m' head, you'll never hurt me. But if I freeze up..." He trailed off with a bit of a shudder.

"Shh." The kitsune nuzzled up that glowing neck, licking along the power lines, making them spark with tiny pseudo-electric shocks through the redhead's body. "I know."

He pulled himself up, belly dragging along the engorged flesh of his lover's cock, teasing it with the silky fur of his happy trail, then moaning as their arousals slid along each other, but he didn't stop until he was hovering over that proud prick. Somehow during the foreplay he'd prepared himself and all three tails hiked as he pressed his winking entrance back onto Renji's manhood. He sat slowly, taking each inch one at a time until he was fully seated, gently milking his lover.

"Mmngh, tell me when I c'n move, Tora no Ai."

Renji nuzzled him a moment before shifting a little, propping himself up on his elbows to kiss and pet his fox. _His kitsune_. A deep, pleasured rumble expressed how happy he was, how pleased, better than any Human language could and he nipped his throat before saying, voice husky and deep, "Anytime yer ready, koi."

"Ya always say th' sweetest things in m' language."

Gin purred, beginning that same sensual rhythm he'd used with his tongue. More rocking back and forth than lifting and falling, it brought his lips up to capture Renji's, and his hands wound in the long crimson strands at the nape of the Horseman's neck. His body undulated on his knees, using the flexibility of the fox to keep the pace steady.

The lines of power were converging now, meeting at his hips and rear, swirling between the lines on his dick and the pool of his Sacral Chakra, pulsing slowly in time with his Mate's movements as he kissed the fox back, sweetly. Passion would come later, inevitably, it was part of Renji's nature. But now, as they lay uniting in body and soul, erasing Renji-the-Human's horrible experience, this tenderness simply felt _right_.

The energies built, and Gin began to yip quietly, under his breath. He was close, Renji's own pleasure spurring him on as he rode. It wouldn't be long, and it wasn't furious, but sometimes, sweet and slow was just as good. The kitsune couldn't remember a time when things had been quite so tender with his lovers, and he knew from this moment on, no other would ever do it the way his Horseman could.

"Nyah...Tora...gonna...Mrrrr."

"Rrowwrr," he replied, nuzzling and licking at his neck. "Good, s' what I want."

His hands danced up the kitsune's sides, claws dragging just enough to give him shivers before each hand took a tail and stroked it firmly from base to tip, the lines of his 'power rod' now filling up the sides of his dick, slower than the others, but the most powerful of the energies approaching their peak.

"F-fill...me...Torrrrra..." The vulpine purred, every breath ending in a small sound.

He ground his own length against the tone planes of his lover's stomach, the bumps and dips stimulating the knot at the base of his dick. Swollen, heavy, and leaking furiously, Gin pinched it between their bodies, drawing his mist cloud in to add to the Marking. His teeth lengthened and a growling moan accompanied his nuzzling around Renji's jaw towards his blind side, nipping and licking. Another thrust, another moment, another moan...so close...

Those little sounds, combined with his mate's plea, did the trick. Renji rolled his hips up into him when he rocked forward, planting himself deep as possible as he came, fierce and surging with power, and yet it was still a sweet thing, as tender as their lovemaking despite his upward lunge to bury his fangs in the fox's shoulder and Mark him as His forever.

Gin did the same, exploding in climax between them. He bit down, power surging through his oh-so-sinful mouth, in the place between neck-lines and shoulder-lines, a silvery swirl throwing contrast to ebony and bronze.

Renji moaned into the flesh where his teeth were fastened, the double-Marking creating a surging power loop that made him squirm and cling and explode a second time, even a third before he could hold on no longer and his jaw let go, breaking the loop as he fell flat on his back on the bed, exhausted.

The kitsune panted heavily, hot breath ghosting over the still fresh Mark. He brought a hand in between them, where the smaller male was arched slightly to avoid laying in the mess he'd made, to rub across his belly.

"Heh...damn...I think ya...heh..." He shifted slightly, so his nose was buried under Renji's ear. "How d'ya feel 'bout kits, Aiko?"

"I...already...?" A huge grin stole across his face as his eye glowed. "I _love _kits, darlin'," he purred before kissing his mate happily, one hand coming down to cover the fox's on his stomach.

Then he gave a huge yawn like the cat he was and pulled slowly out—staying inside would probably make poor Gin rather sore. That done, he then quickly flipped himself around to lick at his mate's hole, where he was leaking seed, nose bumping into those sexy tails. The fox-man squirmed, toes curling, and mewling. It was arousing but not enough to bring him to full hardness. He rolled over so his legs were spread and he could squirm on his back.

When Gin was all clean, Renji licked his lips and bent up to clean himself—he didn't even think about it. He didn't have to. He was a cat, and that part of himself said '_you have to be clean_' before he could sleep. Still, it was quite an impressive feat—his spine shouldn't have been _long _enough to double in half like that. He looked just like a housecat, except maybe more dangerous because of the horns.

The kitsune blinked sleepily and tilted his head as the cloudy, white mess on his mate's stomach was cleaned away, "Tora..."

"Yyyes Mate?" Leg still up in the air, he licked his lips again, twisted, and stretched. Now clean, he could relax.

"The Vow mark...looky." Gin yawned, curling into a ball with his tails wrapped around himself.

"Oh!"

It was gone. The memories, the reason for the Vow, had been overridden, eradicated, through use of the loophole, and thus it no longer existed. As the tiger demon settled with his mate, curling around him, he grinned.

"Ya know what this means, luv…We c'n threesome with So."

"Ooh. Now yer really speakin' mah language! Git over here!" The vulpine pounced him, kissing and petting and purring and clinging as light broke through the windows of the shrine from outside.

On the roof, a pair of red eyes glared out at the world, and a voice hissed, "What now, Ssssaru?"

"Now, we inform the boss." There was a rumble of power too small to disturb the pair below, and the nue stepped through the Veil with a roll of its heavily-muscled shoulders.


	7. The Awakening: Chapter 7

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long for me to get back to posting this. x.x Trying to balance everything, on top of the holiday has been a little crazy. But here we have some solid plot movement.

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How long it took to regain his sight, Ichigo didn't know, but the piercing light of dawn through a window that shouldn't be there was his first clue. His second was a freedom of movement he shouldn't have had; he could unbend his arm and look down at his hand as though it wasn't supposed to be there, because in his memories he knew it had been behind his head when he passed out. The third thing was even more confusing. There was a tickling feeling on his belly. Not that the sensation itself was foreign, his lover regularly played with the lines cut into his skin by the ropes, but not only were the markings long gone, the thing tickling his stomach was not his blue-haired boyfriend's hand. It was a tail. A cat tail to be specific. Black tip and white fur, curling and uncurling contentedly around his belly button and as big around as his fist!

He blinked a few times before it finally clicked, "THE HELL!?"

He bolted back away from the thing, only to discover he couldn't go very far thanks to the chiseled planes of Grimmjow's chest, who yawned and curled tighter around him. The blunette tucked him in further, tail coming up to tickle his chin as strong hands stroked his arms comfortingly.

"Nnngh.."

Both hands came up and grabbed the offensive appendage so he could glare at it straight on. He couldn't turn around, and though somehow he should have noticed that the room they were in had rattan windows along the entire wall facing the East, he didn't.

From behind him came an unholy yowling of agony, "IIICHHIII!"

This caused another desperate squirm from the orangette as he realized it was attached to his lover. "THE HELL?!" He repeated, falling out of bed in a tangle of blankets and limbs to land on his tail bone.

This caused a second, louder, higher, and more agonized series of yowls and caterwauling, because he still had his tail in his grip and had just viciously yanked it. Grimmjow was shredding the bed, between his horns digging into the bed and his claws digging into the headboard and his footpaws thrust viciously against the footboard, long claws having punched all the way through as he was held rigid in indescribable pain.

"Oops!" Ichigo immediately let go of the tail, and then scrambled backwards until he reached the wall. "THE HELL! Grimm you're a...a...like that other guy! The fuck!?"

Grimmjow was clutching his tail to his chest, curled into a ball. The poor appendage was bent at a rather awkward angle, quite clearly broken. The man was nearly crying, ears down, mane in disarray, body curled protectively into a ball—covered in a strange white armor, with reversed knees, and with _paws _for feet and clawed hands that, though not furred like most of the rest of his body, had turned pure black in color.

He sniffled. "Ya din' hafta do _that_!"

It tugged at his heart, the orangette reaching out to soothe his lover, grabbing the edge of the bed to pull himself back up onto their it, in the process the frame cracked loudly, making him stop and stare at it horrified, with his other hand hovering in the air inches away from Grimmjow.

"Ah...uh..."

The panther looked from his tail to Ichigo's hand and the crushed wood where he had gripped, coming to the only logical conclusion he could. "Ya got stronger. Lots stronger."

It was at that point his Knowledge decided to return, and he bolted upright with a gasp, still holding his tail to his chest. "Ichi—yer—I—We Awakened! But I'm not—that means you—well fuck me. Who'da thunk?" He sat back on his haunches, blinking.

Ichigo blinked, too. There was a long pause, where he waited for the other to add anything to that. When it was obvious he wouldn't get anything else, he clipped, "What?"

Grimmjow frowned at his tail. "Gimme a second..."

Biting his lip hard, he took the tip in one hand and held just below the break with the other. Then he gave it a single, firm yank. The sickening crack was compounded by him biting clear though his lip with dagger-sharp teeth, but immediately a bolt of bright blue traveled his tail from base to tip and he let his tail go with a sigh, before awkwardly twisting around and forcing the base of his tail joint back into its socket. Another couple flashes of blue and he was good as new.

"Well, I Awakened as who I truly am—Conquest. Er, I think humans 'ave taken ta callin' me Pestilence, which is stupid 'cuz I hate diseases and dirt. I'm more the 'take what'cha got 'cuz ya won it fair an' square' man. But I ain't cursed no more, so tha' makes you my Key—key ta takin' off m' curse. BUT ya managed ta really hurt me, meanin' ya can't be just _any _ol' descendant o' tha' old windbag, Th' First King, so _you _must be his Heir, meanin' since he's been dead some years now, YOU'VE gotta be th' next King! So I'm the King's Consort, jus' like Shiro's always called me! So fuck me, who'da ever thunk it?"

More blinking and a noise that sounded a bit like an electrical short. Then Ichigo was on his feet, pacing back and forth and gesturing wildly while ranting, "Ní féidir liom a bheith ar an oidhre chun an throne, tá mé díreach tar éis an duine. Bhí scéalta Yama-jii s go díreach. Conas a d'fhéadfadh siad fíor?! Agus Shiro? An bhfuil a chiallaíonn sé a bhí ceart faoi seo ar fad an am seo ar an iomlán, agus bhí ár gáire air am amú? má tá muid ag tabhairt aird dó? agus cad faoi coláiste? bhí ceaptha agam a céim a bhaint amach an bhliain seo chugainn! An bhfuil gach rud déanta againn agus d'oibrigh sé do bhí useless? agus mé Gortaítear leat! Cad a tharlaíonn má is féidir liom é arís? Ní féidir liom a bheith Rí. No! ní bheidh mé! diúltú liom!"

"Ya can't jus' refuse yer throne, luv, the King is a necessary balancer. Ya won't hurt me anymore once ya git a grip on yer new strength. Yes, we shoulda been payin' better attention ta Shiro an' every time we laughed at 'im was wasted time. Yes, th' stories were real. Yer human, but more as well. And no, not everythin' we've worked for 'as been useless. Ya can still finish college, it's not like anyone else can claim th' throne...and there's good sense in livin' yer human life, you'll know what needs balance an' how badly. Also, sweetie, either slow down or switch to Japanese, m' Gaelic's juuuus' a lil' rusty," Grimmjow replied, quite calmly considering, and licked at his armored tail. Bones he could heal, he wasn't so good with bruises.

"Ach níl ach an oiread sin...go fóill, cad é?" Ichigo stopped his pacing, and blinked again. "Switch to Japanese? But I am speaking Japanese, what's Gaelic?"

Grimmjow rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Baby, Gaelic is what'chu were jus' speakin'. 'Diúltú mé' an' all tha'? And yes, tha' is what'chu were speakin'. Don't argue, I was JUST listenin' to ya."

"Je ne parlais pas le gaélique! Je parle normalement, si ça sonne bizarre pour vous c'est à cause de ce que Shiro fait qui vous a fait tourner dedans!" He argued anyway, not noticing the shift once again. "Et où en sommes-nous de toute façon!? Je me souviens d'aller au lit avec vous à la maison. Ce n'est pas à la maison. Et ce qui s'est passé à la corde? La moitié du plaisir d'être ligoté est que vous me délier!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, look, ya WERE speakin' Gaelic, an' can ya _please _stop wit' da French? I fuckin' hate those puissant pussies! We—well, we _are _home. Mah home. In th' Shrine. When we Awakened, shit happened, I musta teleported us ta where I felt most 'safe'. After all, I wouldn' want anythin' happenin' ta mah mate." His tail ticked. "Love, c'mere, would'ja?"

Once again Ichigo froze, "NEIN! Was wenn ich dir wehgetan wieder!?" His toes turned inward, and his hands came up to his chest, and he mumbled, "Ich konnte es nicht ertragen wenn ich dich wieder verletzt. "

"So come up 'ere, on th' bed. Lemme cuddle you. I'll do th' touchin so ya can't hurt me," he coaxed, opening his arms to his lover. "Ya won't hurt me, Kitten. Now that ya know ya gotta be careful, ya will be, won'tcha?"

The orangette came over to the bed and sat down on the edge, staring at the place where he'd cracked the frame, and tucking his knees up under his chin. Change was scary, and apparently now he was a monster. His insecurities about being odd and strange and different that had caused him to be both violent and temperamental all of his life made this whole situation panic-inducing.

Grimmjow curled up to his back, crossed his legs—twisted and odd as they were—over Ichigo so they were in the orangette's lap, looking like a pretzel, and used the heels of his black palms to massage his temples, down the sides of his face, and then back up to pull his fingers lightly through his hair, murmuring softly in his ear.

"Feel me pull th' tension outta ya. Feel me. Only me, mate. Feel how much I love ya. Can'tcha sense how much I love ya, how I would go ta th' ends o' th' earth for ya?"

"I knew that already." The new King did lean back into Grimmjow's touch though, and there was a drawing sensation, pulling the fear from his heart and removing the panic. "I just don't understand. Yama-jii never acted like it was important. It was just stories and when I stopped wanting to listen to him, he didn't push me about it. Shiro was always the one who would beg him for story after story about it. Ever since M—" He paused. "Since Mom died and we started staying with him and Uncle Kisuke when Goat Face was working. I don't get it. If it was important. If I'm so important, why'd they go off and leave me to figure it out on my own." His eyes fell closed.

"Because as with most things, timin' is an extremely important factor. If anyone tried ta push ya, tried ta Awaken ya, b'fore ya were ready..." he shuddered, hands faltering a moment. "...you'da gone insane. Killed everythin' in yer path b'fore self-destructin'. We've seen it happen b'fore. An, well, I'd be cursed ferever. Like...th' Third." His voice dropped, as if speaking of a horrible thing, an unmentionable name, on that last sentence.

"The Third?" Ichigo tilted his head so he could look at his lover.

"He means me," Said a bit of thin air by the door in a teasing baritone.

Grimmjow pulled Ichigo against him protectively, growling as his eyes turned to slits. The air shimmered, and out of the shimmer stepped a man—tall, handsome. Brown hair, mesmerizing brown eyes, hair pushed out of his face and a single lock hanging between his eyes. Most strikingly, however, was his garb—or lack of it, as he wore only a loincloth, but his reasoning was obvious seeing as out of his back sprouted an enormous pair of glistening butterfly wings, in an astonishing rainbow of color, and it shone like a thousand gems in the weak dawn light, dust being left in his wake as he scoffed at the feline.

"Oh, do calm yourself, First. I have no interest in _your _Key," he waved a dismissive hand.

Grimmjow held tighter to Ichigo—just looking at the Third, just thinking of how he could have lost his love into an endless loop of agony like the butterfly demon lived in, made his heart clench and stutter.

"Wh-what happened?" Ichigo stuttered, clenching the discarded sheet to his lap. "I'm pretty new at all of this. Are you...um..." His eyes drifted over the wings. "Like the other one...and um...Grimm?" His nervousness was coming back, and being naked in front of this new person didn't help at all.

"My Key was damaged," the new demon replied, "and yes, I am. We are called the Four Kings, though more honestly, we are the Four Horsemen. We supposedly herald the Apocalypse, but in truth it simply falls to us to keep the human population from exploding and draining the earth of all its resources—as, you may have noticed, it most definitely has over the years."

Grimmjow stared at the brunette. "Ya call bein' constantly separated, bein' eternally tormented, double-torn between Curse an' Contract, forced ta watch th' love o' yer life bein' born over and over only ta die, ta be abused, ta be born in a different country where ya can't get 'im-"

"_Enough!_" The butterfly snarled, eyes glowing and fangs showing as his claws grew, making a violent 'shut the fuck up' gesture in Grimmjow's direction before he forcibly calmed himself, pulled his hair back from where it had been in disarray, and once more held himself in cool elegance. "My troubles are not your mate's concern, nor are they yours, Conquest." His chin rose. "War and Death have also found their Keys and are with them now. I suggest the Heir go and comfort Death's key, seeing as the Dawn Light will soon spirit him back to the blackness and he will need to summon him back more permanently."

"Death..." Orange brows drew together, "Oh, what the fuck did Shii say about the Four Horsemen?!" He brought his hand down in frustration on the footboard, scaring himself back further into Grimmjow's arms when the wood splintered. "MERDE! Nie ficken lassen daran gewöhnt!" He looked up at his lover, "Ugh...Déan é a stopadh...?"

Third chuckled at the way the King's emotions affected the language he spoke. "Hold out your hands."

When the King had done so, the tall demon held out his own above them and began chanting softly in a non-voice that commanded the energy in the air. _Bind the tongue, bind the breath, bind the muscles, bind the strength, stay within a human's power, 'til the vessel's rightful hour. Give to him the gift ere long, but help him keep his native tongue. This binding lasts until he's grown into his powers on his own. The spell cast by Blessed Three, my will be done, so mote it be. _A gentle purple glow enveloped the orangette.

Grimmjow petted Ichigo's head. "Ya come up wit' th'best spells, Aizen."

The brunette fluttered some wing-dust over Ichigo to finish sealing the binding, before replying, "That's because I've been trapped in this world, fully conscious, and in the same life for so long."

Again the ginger found himself blinking. He was doing a lot of that lately. "Now what?"

He flexed his fingers, watching the glitter dissolve into his skin with some trepidation. His mind was buzzing. "I...there's something I should understand here, but it's not coming to me. Third, right?" He looked to Aizen, at the man's nod, he looked over his shoulder at Grimm, "Conquest? And somewhere nearby is Death, and did you say War? Wait...does that mean I'm...whoa..."

His hand flew to his temple and his eyes went unfocused for a moment, as the realization that he was the King, the Savior, according to the legends...Christ. But they'd said that was just legend, right? Well, then...but...and even if...ugh! He needed Shiro to sort all of this out for him. His twin had always been the one with answers.

"Yes, and—" There came a cry of distress and outrage, echoing through the chamber, brought on echoes from a secluded alcove, and Aizen sighed. "That...would be Death's Key. Death's Contract is up. He has been sent back into the darkness."

Grimmjow's ears shot straight up. "Shiro? Shiro's Four's Key?"

"Are you surprised? He _did _summon him. You are aware that's the only way they can possibly meet." The butterfly raised an eyebrow.

Ichigo was off like a shot, moving faster than he ever had before, and somehow the sheet had been wrapped around his body like a traditional toga. He burst through the door to find his twin curled in the middle of a bed that was identical to the one where he'd woken up. The albino rocked back and forth holding himself. The orangette was on top of him in the blink of an eye, pulling him into an embrace he was slightly terrified would crush the slightly smaller male, but it didn't and he soon found a white nose buried in the hollow of his neck.

"He's gone, King. Gone 'til I c'n summon 'im back. I dunno how ta do that without m' board." He was murmuring.

Ichigo shushed him, drawing his hand through the spikes so similar to his own. "We'll get him back, Shii. I promise. You broke his curse. He can't stay away from you for long. I'm sure of it, and I don't even know this shit."

The two were quiet for a short while, Shiro fighting off tears as he spilled everything that had happened, leaving out a few specific _personal_ details, and about how he was certain the others were around here somewhere because the release of energy that morning had been entirely too large for just his own interactions. "I know they're here. I dunno where, but, King, I'll find 'em an' get 'em their keys. I swear it!"

"Heh, we're closer than you think, Shii."

"Eh? Whatcha mean?" It was the albino's turn to blink, as his twin smiled crookedly.

"Now how did that thing go? 'til I need it? Eh, dunno how well this'll work but this morning when I woke I could do this." Ichigo reached out and grabbed one of the wooden crossbeams on the window and actually concentrated on squeezing the wood. A small symbol glowed on the inside of his wrist in lavender, then the bar splintered, the same the bedframe had before.

"Whoa! King!" Shiro exclaimed momentarily distracted. "How'd that happen?"

Ichigo related his mating with Grimmjow and how somehow they'd gone to bed at home and woken up here while the albino paced, obviously thinking. "An' then this Aizen dude cast a spell on ya so ya could control it? Damn, that does mean th' others 're here, an' this Aizen dude must be Famine. I mean if Blue's Conquest and Qio's Death. Wonder who War is."

"Dunno, but I really wish Ulquiorra could be here for you, Shii." Ichigo drew his knee up to his chin, watching his twin shiver as a ripple of energy the orangette didn't exactly feel coursed through the air.

There was a deep shudder, and the fabric of reality rippled. An oval shape, vertical this time, but identical to the one Ulquiorra had come out of the first time, appeared. The blackness buckled. It writhed. It fought. It twisted. And finally, it vomited out Death, in all his horned and furry glory, in a heap of twisted long limbs and wings and tail, looking confused, groggy, and rather like something heavy had just hit him over the head.

"What—?"

* * *

**A/N 2: **In case anybody's interested, here are Ichi's language slips Google Translated:

"Ní féidir liom a bheith ar an oidhre chun an throne, tá mé díreach tar éis an duine. Bhí scéalta Yama-jii s go díreach. Conas a d'fhéadfadh siad fíor?! Agus Shiro? An bhfuil a chiallaíonn sé a bhí ceart faoi seo ar fad an am seo ar an iomlán, agus bhí ár gáire air am amú? má tá muid ag tabhairt aird dó? agus cad faoi coláiste? bhí ceaptha agam a céim a bhaint amach an bhliain seo chugainn! An bhfuil gach rud déanta againn agus d'oibrigh sé do bhí useless? agus mé Gortaítear leat! Cad a tharlaíonn má is féidir liom é arís? Ní féidir liom a bheith Rí. No! ní bheidh mé! diúltú liom!"

"I cannot be the heir to the throne, I am just a human. Yama-jii's stories were just that. How could they have been real?! And Shiro? Does that mean he has been right about all of this the whole time, and our laughing at him was wasted time? Should we have been paying attention to him? And what about college? I was supposed to graduate next year! Has everything we have done and worked for been useless? And I hurt you! What if I do it again? I cannot be King. No! I will not! I refuse!" (Gaelic)

"Ach níl ach an oiread sin...go fóill, cad é?"

"But there's just so much...wait, what?" (Gaelic)

"Je ne parlais pas le gaélique! Je parle normalement, si ça sonne bizarre pour vous c'est à cause de ce que Shiro fait qui vous a fait tourner dedans! Et où en sommes-nous de toute façon!? Je me souviens d'aller au lit avec vous à la maison. Ce n'est pas à la maison. Et ce qui s'est passé à la corde? La moitié du plaisir d'être ligoté est que vous me délier!"

"I was not speaking Gaelic! I'm talking normally, if it sounds weird to you it's because of whatever Shiro did that made you turn into that! And where are we anyway!? I remember going to bed with you at home. This is not home. And what happened to the ropes? Half the fun of being tied up is you untying me!" (French)

"NEIN! Was wenn ich dir wehgetan wieder!? Ich konnte es nicht ertragen wenn ich dich wieder verletzt."

"NO! What if I hurt you again!? I couldn't stand it if I hurt you again." (German)

"MERDE! Nie ficken lassen daran gewöhnt! Ugh...Déan é a stopadh...?"

"Shit! Never going to fucking get used to that! Ugh...Make it stop...?" (French, German, Gaelic – in that order)


	8. The Awakening: Chapter 8

**A/N:** The holidays had me crocheting like crazy to get a gift finished for my cub, and drama with the car needing to be taken to the mechanic, and...ugh...snow. x.x I love snow, don't get me wrong, but I pulled something shoveling the car out to get it to said mechanic. Anyway, it was a hassle and it threw off my schedule. So, here you go, minna. Sorry about the delay. Ja ne!

* * *

The twins simultaneously jumped back with a duplicated, "EEP!"

Then Shiro pounced his mate, "QIO!"

"AGH!" The poor bat had been assaulted from both sides, and now his eyes crossed as pronounced ringing in both his ears made it nearly-impossible to focus on the fact that he suddenly had a double-armful of Mate on top of him.

"Ah! Gomene!" Shiro kissed the side of the pale demon's head, a small flash of soft pink radiating from his lips.

"Ah..." Ichigo looked nervous. "Is that another one of those King things?"

"He, and yes, he is," Aizen replied, all of a sudden right beside him. "Though…you shouldn't call your brother's mate a 'thing'."

Ulquiorra was too busy purring and nuzzling into his lover, wrapping his huge wings around him, to realize he'd just been insulted.

"I didn't mean him! I meant the fact that I said...eh...what I said, and then he showed up." The orangette rounded on the butterfly, scowling at being both misunderstood and being startled. That was happening entirely too much today. "So, you three are Horsemen, where's the fourth? Or rather...if he's Death...eh...Death is Fourth, right, Shii?"

"Uh huh." Shiro answered distractedly, and a little muffled from within the embrace of his lover.

Ichigo blushed and made his way out of the room, certain that the sight would make Aizen uncomfortable and to give the lovers a moment to reunite. "So, Death is Fourth, you're Third. Which is Grimm? And where's the last one? Or should I say, who?" He stepped out into the sunlight, unconsciously turning his face to it and smiling with his eyes closed.

"Your mate is First—Conquest. You've already figured out I am Famine. The second is War—your red-headed friend...no, don't say his name," he added quickly. "It will summon him and he is rather comfortable with his own mate right now. You do _not _want an angry Kitsune after you wanting his mate back, trust me." The butterfly was quite unruffled; he was used to every kind of expression of affection, physical and not. He had been around, and alive, for far too long.

"So, I'm not allowed to use their names at all?" Ichigo scratched his head. This was thoroughly confusing. Renji was...what? War? Well, that rather made sense considering. Then he gave a small shudder. "Guess I should probably tell Z I can't fight in his club anymore..."

"That is another power of yours that you haven't managed to get full control of yet. You are The King. When you speak, all of the cosmos bends to hear your voice, and the fabric of time and reality itself would dissolve should you so command it to," Aizen explained. "And you could continue to fight. You might simply cause your brother's mate a lot of work. You'll be able to call them by their true names when your abilities are better controlled."

"Eh, 'bout that..." A small silver-haired head appeared from behind a nearby tree. He looked around furtively for a moment, "I don't have long, my illusion won't hold if he wakes up, but couldja...um...tell Death...he...uh...there's a job?" The kitsune's ears flicked and he looked behind him. "Eh. Gotta go." And he was gone in a small puff of mist.

"Uh..." The King looked vaguely green. "Death has a job? Like...somebody died? Right?"

"That is generally what that translates to. However, if Gin is involved, it is a death that likely needs covering up. Ulquiorra," Aizen barked, suddenly commanding, "Gin has informed me you have work to do."

Ulquiorra, at the calling of his Name by the older and more powerful demon, went rigid. He rose and bowed. "Sorry, my mate, but I am required."

With that, he disappeared, and Shiro emerged from the building confused. At that moment from across the courtyard, Renji's irritated voice echoed and bounced off stone walls.

"THE FUCK, DEATH?!"

Ichigo practically jumped out of his skin. "I thought you said not to do that?! And why is Ren—uh…War so upset?"

"You have more power and no control. If _you _called them by Name, they would be forcibly summoned. I have the most control of anyone here, as I've been around longest. Therefore, I reserve the right to boss the other three around. And War is upset because...well, Death just popped into his bedroom, naked, where he was lounging, naked, with his newly pregnant mate…who might I add is also naked. I believe, he is rather displeased by that." Aizen betrayed himself with an amused quirk of the mouth.

"Qio appeared in Red's room!?"

"Newly pregnant mate?!"

The twins spoke at the same time. Then without waiting Shiro took off running, "Oi! Tha's MAH junk ta look at! Red git yer eyes closed!"

Ichigo whirled on Aizen, "PREGNANT!?" He felt the pressing of that same strange full feeling from before when Grimmjow had said he was speaking in Gaelic, which hauled him up cold. "I'm still speaking Japanese, right?"

"Oh, yes, yes you are. And of course, pregnant. He's a kitsune, a sex demon." The butterfly still appeared slightly entertained.

"Oh good." He visibly relaxed for a moment, then exploded, "B-but how!? I mean, he's a male, right? Guys can't get pregnant! Oh my head." He held his temples.

"Kitsune are able to shape-shift, they're quite capable of getting pregnant regardless of gender. You could as well, if you commanded it so, but that's…how did you put it? 'One of those King things'." Aizen added with a serene flutter of wings. "Stop thinking of things by human rules. You are the King. _Everything _runs on no rules but your own. Though I would ask you do not say that Gin cannot be pregnant. His body will abort to accommodate you and it would devastate him. You must start watching your words very carefully, My Liege."

That was like a punch in the gut. Regardless of whether it made sense, Ichigo wasn't about to abort the...kits? "No, no, no. I want him to have them." He frowned for a moment so he could figure out how to say what he wanted to say without screwing it up. "Um...I hope Gin's kits are healthy and strong and born easily when they're ready." He scratched his head. "How was that?"

"That was extremely good. It helps when you put 'I hope' or 'I think' or any other verbal statement that indicates what follows is not a command. 'I want' and 'I wish' are command predicates. Usually, if there is no predicate, that will still count as a command as far as Magic is concerned. Still, I am sure Gin's pregnancy will be fairly easy now," the brunette added with a little smile. "Once you learn to control your power as King, so not everything you say is a command, you will be able to return to normal speech patterns."

"Somehow I have the feeling that is going to be a problem until I figure out how to do that." The King rubbed his head again. "But what about this curse thing? I'm sure Shiro could tell me, but he's...heh...occupied at the moment." He blushed a little. "Walk with me? I always think better when I'm moving."

"As you wish. I hope you don't mind if I fly instead." His wings whirring to life, a fine dust settled over everything in the area as the demon hovered off the floor. "The curse is broken. Lifted. Gone. That is what the 'key' does, and my comrades have all found and mated with—essentially 'married', their keys."

"So what about you?" Ichigo scowled. "You said your key was broken. Are you doomed to be forever alone or something? Is there anything I can do? I mean...you said I could bend the fabric of reality to suit me, so, could I bring you your key?"

"You could. It would be...unwise. There is a reason I am the eldest. My key, as he existed and in the time he existed, was broken before I even found him. A priest. He had already been taken away…having devoted himself to his God. Bringing him, as I would need him, as he was then, would drive him insane and I would likely commit suicide. Or attempt to. I failed the other times." He looked oddly serene as he spoke, eyes distant. "Also, though reality will twist to suit you, there is no telling the far-reaching consequences, nor what paradoxes you might create and what events you may cause to never happen. It is best not to mess with such forces. Not every variable can be accounted for."

The orangette frowned deeper. "What about this life?"

"This life, he has been born outside the reach of my powers as they are restricted by the curse." His eyes abruptly refocused. "We have wandered into irrelevant subject matter. You wished to know about the curse?"

The King looked disgruntled, but allowed the shift. "Yeah."

"I am aware it is a unique torture to each of us. Death hated the darkness when he was alive. His curse was to live suspended in darkness, in nothingness where there exists no sensation, only consciousness drowning in the endless void. War and Conquest were sent into the human world on an impossible mission. They died, but with the mission parameters unfulfilled, they were forced to reincarnate on the human plane again and again, every life getting them further from who they were. They were, however, always drawn to the King's Line because of the nature of their mission." The soothing baritone eased the ache behind Ichigo's eyes.

"And you?" The question was quiet, but something about this composed, tragic creature called to him.

"Mine was the same as Ulquiorra's, but in one of my key's reincarnations he was able to Contract me. The terms however dictate that I will remain upon the human plane until reality turns to dust." The clipped answer brought the King up short, Aizen pausing with him.

"I can see how painful that must have been." A slip of the tongue and Ichigo fell to his knees gripping his head with open hand.

Centuries of loneliness and watching the humans the butterfly cared about dying with nothing he could do to help them. Years upon years of searching, hoping and finally that spirit breaking, destroyed by time as each time the Key was reborn either too far away or too many things in the way for them to even enjoy each other's company. Bloody tears streamed down his face, and he screamed, his other hand digging into the ground.

_MIND BE STILL! EYE BE CLOSED!_ The command, again spoken in that non-voice, shut Ichigo's eyes to Aizen's long and painful history, the butterfly kneeling on the ground, using his hand to wipe away the blood as he rocked the young man, crooning soothing words to him.

"Sssshhhhh, ssshhh, young King, sssshhhh, don't think about it. And kindly don't ever say that again," he added, petting his hair.

Ichigo shivered, "So...much...pain...how...how are you...who did this to you?" His voice was weak, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Aizen took both hands in his own. "Why...the False God. Just as he cursed the others, so he cursed me. I simply had the poor luck of having a very...easily broken key."

"I know that's what you call him. Yama-jii said the same thing..." Ichigo climbed slowly to his feet, and something hard as flint shone in his honey-amber eyes. "I want his Name."

He said it deliberately, and there was a cast to his jaw and shoulders that left no question about his bloodline. To the others, when the orangette looked like this, it meant someone was going to be seriously injured.

Taking this change in stature made the Third inwardly proud of the young man in front of him. "Well, being as we were demons, bound and captured before we could do more than see his face, I'm afraid I don't know it. Nor do the others. However, Gin has connections...including one who knows just about everyone's Name, and will even give them out without a Price if he deems the receiver worthy."

Power rippled around the courtyard. Ichigo was a fast learner. He turned his head to the individual buildings that served as residences for the Four and Called...mentally. His tongue may have tripped over the language of magic, but his mind, his soul, knew exactly what it was doing. So, with the same way he picked up fighting, and the other hobbies he learned, his thoughts warped the energies around him.

Aizen merely bowed, already present. Grimmjow popped in, looking sort of frazzled, like a cat stroked the wrong way—he was a creature that hated to come when called. Ulquiorra came winging in with what looked like the mutilated remains of a dead body in his arm, and Renji arrived last, staggering a little when he ran into a wall, still not quite used to his new lack of depth perception.

"We have a mission, boys." In what Shiro called 'leader mode', Ichigo only had eyes for his target. "War, your mate has information I need. Death, dispose of that somewhere, we'll need your services." Then he turned and summoned his twin.

Shiro was instantly at his King's side with a psychotic grin. They already had something of a psychic connection. The Twin Effect most talked about, though this was the first time Ichigo had actively used it to share information. The albino read everything and gave a psychotic laugh and his eyes flashed gold. "Lemme get m' book, King."

Ulquiorra disappeared with the sound of ripping velcro and returned clean of blood. Nobody asked what he'd done with the body. Renji simply turned and Called for his mate. Gin could get to him faster than he could find the quick little kitsune. And Grimmjow sat back to watch what the twins were cooking up. When they got _that _look to them, shit tended to explode like a tie-dyed rainbow in the middle of Crazytown.

The silver fox emerged from a cloud, and looked to his mate before Ichigo cleared his throat. "Gin, I'm told you know someone who can find out the Name of almost anyone I could want to contact?"

"Yah, that sounds like Otou-san. Why?" One ear flopped down in confusion and the kitsune tilted his head to the side.

"We're going Hunting." This was a phrase the orangette used anytime there was a specific someone he wanted to taste his fist. "No one curses My court and gets away with it." Power rippled through the courtyard again like a velvet caress over all Four.

"Mah! Prrrrrr." Gin giggled. "He's got a little shop in Karakuracho now. Teaches th' kits 'bout magic an' stuff. I c'n take ya there. If ev'rybody's ready."

Renji nodded, stepping up to his mate, followed by Ulquiorra, who alighted on the ground close by the others. Grimmjow stood from where he'd leaned against the wall and grinned. And finally Aizen inclined his head. It had been a long time since the Four had ridden into battle together and to say that they weren't all interested in it would be a lie.

Shiro was back in a flash, one of his tricks that was half technology, half magic, carrying his book, and when he was settled, Ichigo turned to Gin. "This won't hurt your kits will it?"

"Nah. 'S too early fer them ta affect m' magic." The kitsune grinned...no, beamed. The King knew about his cubs! "Ev'rybody come in close, an' I'll transport us."

Once they had, a slow-building mist grew from the ground, enveloping the whole group of seven. Higher and higher it climbed, until the outside world was blocked from view, much as he had with Renji when War had Awakened. In no time at all the cloud was dissapating again, and the surroundings came into view. A small, slightly run-down shop at the end of a wide, brightly sunlit alley, with a dirt area that in the spring was covered in soft grass and wildflowers. The sign over the shoji screen doors proclaimed, 'Shoten'.

"Urahara?!" Shiro gasped. "Yer Otou-san is Uncle Pervy Hat?"

Ichigo frowned and looked to Gin for confirmation. The kitsune merely shrugged, already walking up to the closed doors.

"He took me in when I was a kit. M' Kaa-chan was run over bringin' me here fer somethin' an' Otou-san jus' kept me on. Taught me how ta use magic an' get ta the Other Side, 'bout Contracts an' stuff. There ain't nothin' he don't know."

"That is excellent, perhaps he—" Then the door opened.

Each Horseman stopped dead, and Renji gasped, "YOU!"

Grimmjow visibly recoiled, hissing and crouching protectively in front of his mate. Even Aizen and Ulquiorra both took steps back, wings coming around their bodies in a glaring and obvious protective gesture as Ulquiorra stood in front of his mate.

"Ah..." His voice was shaky, his legs more so. Time had not been kind to the blonde shopkeeper. He leaned heavily on his cane, deep lines carved into his face. "I was wondering when you all would show up. Very good job on the summoning, Shiro-kun. You've always been very timely with these things. Come in, come in, don't make an old man stand around in cold morning air." He turned and shuffled very slowly back into the shop, leaving the door open.

Ichigo and Shiro looked around them frowning a bit. The reaction from the others made the hair on the back of their necks stand on end.

"King...?" The albino asked.

Ichigo ducked around Grimmjow, and with a look at Aizen, stepped forward. "Gin, there is obviously more to this than we were aware. Should we need it, can you provide us with a speedy exit? I don't mean to cast suspicion on your father, but..." He gestured lightly to the Four.

"Ah...hai..." The little kitsune was just as thoroughly confused and more than a little hurt by the way his mate had responded to the man he saw as his father.

The Four looked at each other before Aizen nodded. The other three inclined their heads and, as a unit, all four stalked forward, mates encased within their diamond protective formation. Renji reached for his mate's hand to try and comfort the poor kitsune. Gin actually clung to the redhead's arm, whimpering a little and his mate responded by tucking him into his side with a soft croon. Shiro echoed the sentiment, looping Ulquiorra's tail around his wrist gently, which immediately gripped tighter, and the albino found a black, velvety wing wrapped around his shoulders.

"It appears that there is much explaining to do," Aizen said softly as he entered, at the front of the diamond. He had the least to lose.

Before they crossed the threshold, Ichigo, who was in the center of the diamond as both Grimmjow's mate and the most important person in their group, put a hand on Aizen's shoulder. Sad eyes conveyed the message, 'be strong, Famine.' He would be damned if that crushing loneliness would be allowed to haunt the beautiful demon any longer. He was Awake now, and that meant that these Four were as much his family as his twin. He was answered with a charming smile—the kind that was instinctively registered as a beautiful, non-verbal lie. The butterfly's hand gave his own a gentle squeeze. With a soft, sad sigh, Ichigo dropped back to be closer to Grimmjow, knowing the feline would need him for strength as much as the others would.


	9. The Awakening: Chapter 9

**A/N:** Konnichiwa, minna! Fair warning for those of you out there with weak hearts. Keep your tissues with you for this one. We've got some real soul touching stuff in here, and a much, much appreciated character death...v.v It's sad, but in a good way, trust me, and here I will apologize for everything we are about to pour onto a certain fukutaicho. From here on out, if you are a fan of this character, I would recommend not continuing the story, unless you're open-minded enough to accept her as the villain. *crash of thunder, flash of lightning and evil cackles* Good gracious, what was that?! MAH! Enjoy. Ja ne!

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The inside of the shop was just as he remembered it. A display of candies to one side, with a small cash register on the counter. A low table in the back for tea and other goodies that Uncle Kisuke always had available for the children in the neighborhood. Ichigo dearly missed those days, hanging around on the cushions scattered about the floor, listening to Yama-jii prattle on about some fairy or ghost. His little sisters running around playing tag with the black cat that lived there most of the time. He took a deep breath, blinking away the tears that being in the neighborhood of his childhood brought. When they'd had to move to Tokyo proper for their father to get the job at the bigger hospital, the daily trips to Uncle Kisuke's funny little shop had dropped to weekly, and then as time went on, money got tighter. The visits became monthly, and then when Yama-jii died, none of them could bring themselves to visit the place where the old man had been so lively. It had been over ten years since Ichigo had walked through those doors, and yet it seemed like he had walked back in time, Yama-jii would shuffle out from around the corner that connected the shop to the living quarters, carrying a tray of tea and they'd listen to another story. Well, at least that part was true. Uncle Kisuke shuffled around that corner, carrying a tray of tea and sweets.

"It's not quite the same recipe that your Yama-jii made, but I'm afraid he took that one with him on his journey." The old shopkeeper gave an apologetic sleepy smile, set the tray down and groaned as he lowered himself to the cushion next to the table. He took in the way the Four clung to their mates and King. "I knew it'd be you, Berry-tan. You always had that air about you. Pity, Yama didn't make it to see this day. He'd have been so proud."

"Anyone would. He is a strong, compassionate young man," Aizen murmured, taking again the 'point' seat—the one closest to Kisuke. "He also," his mouth curved, "is the Key and Mate of our very own Conquest. Conquest and Kingship go together so well, don't they?"

Ulquiorra tucked his mate yet closer. Nobody was sending HIS mate to the darkness! Renji sat cross-legged with Gin in his lap, hands and arms crossed protectively over his tummy, ears back as he kept a watchful eye on everything. Grimmjow pressed against his mate's side—as much for reassurance as for comfort. His mate was here, his mate was safe.

Aizen, sitting in the traditional seiza, took one of the cups of tea. "If you'll forgive my ill manners...I believe we are deserving of the explanation you never gave back then."

"Ah yes...back then..." Kisuke's eyes, heavy with sleep and slow, glazed over in deep memory. "It appears we are all in dire need of an explanation. You were not to have been treated as you were. It doesn't make up for it, of that I am all too painfully aware, but it is the truth nonetheless. As you are already aware, Famine-san, I am of the Bloodline, and thought that the Court should be controlled. The untimely demise of my brother was devastating to the Other World."

"Uncle Kisuke, you...ah...are you that old?" Ichigo reformed his statement, catching himself before he gave an order.

The shopkeeper smiled sadly. "Actually I am, Berry-tan. The First King was my brother, and your Yama-jii was my nephew. He was to be the Heir but a meddlesome boy who saw the absence of his beloved twin as the end of the universe got in the way. He turned to a warlock for a special spell that would give him control of the Four until his nephew could grow up and take control himself. The trouble was, the boy didn't realize the warlock for what she was at the time. Spurned by one of the Four, she was vindictive, and gave the boy a curse. One that would throw the entire cosmos into chaos. Entropy became order and the Four were bound to seek out specific mortals to gain their powers back. The once majestic guardians of the Mortal World were reduced to the level of common demons, sent on impossible missions and able to be Contracted to any petty sorcerer or mage that stumbled across their Names." A shaky hand reached out to take hold of his tea pot, and Gin pulled against Renji's embrace to help his step-father.

Renji let him go. If he was getting what the old man had said right..."Who was it? The warlock?"

Aizen's mouth twisted at the question and his wings started to dye a blood red. "It was Hinamori. Wasn't it, Kisuke-san?"

Grimmjow, Renji, and Ulquiorra all visibly started and inched away from Aizen. Ulquiorra tucked his mate into his chest. Grimmjow shuddered and nudged Ichigo further down. Renji bodily moved Gin to the other side of the table, both closer to his step-father and as far from Aizen as he could get in this enclosed space.

The three mates stared. Gin poured his step-father's tea, and gladly sank back into the strong embrace of his violent mate. Ichigo blinked a few times, and Shiro cried out.

"Dude! Yer wings're like a mood ring. I've heard o' that."

The albino hauled his book into his lap and was furiously flipping pages ignoring the others around them. If Ichigo's focus was 'leader mode' this was Shiro's 'research mode'. Entirely buried in his manuscripts, in this mode, the budding mage could be lost for days without food, drink or sleep until he found what he was looking for.

The shopkeeper, however, was nonplussed. "Hai, Famine-san. That was her name, I believe. I knew nothing of her at the time. She merely took advantage of my pain after losing the brother that my other half. And she did exactly as she said she would. My nephew is King, your curse should be broken. Unless, for some reason..." Grey-green eyes scanned the room. "Ah, one of you is missing. That does pose a problem. I suppose the only thing left to do now, Famine-san, is to kill me." He gave a small, sardonic smile, taking a drink from his tea.

"Otou-san!" Gin whimpered.

"I know the curse that vile creature used."

Aizen's wings dyed even darker, nearly black now, and it was obviously scaring the other Three. The way they hovered over their mates and inched away from him were distinct signs.

"It made you immortal, yet not immune to age, cursing each of us in hopes that all would be like me, and miss their chance. I am the one who scorned that woman. For I could see the ugly, evil cruelty that she hid under her feminine wiles," he growled, eyes glowing. "It is a curse never meant to come undone. But," he forced himself to be outwardly calm, but his wings still betrayed him, "I suppose you are eager to finally enter the cycle of reincarnation, aren't you, Kisuke-san? After seeing everyone you know go through it over and over."

"Only you could understand my desires, Aizen-san." The old man was tired..._very_ tired.

"B-but...Otou-san..." Gin whimpered again, one hand going to his belly, and tears in his eyes.

"I know, Maru-chan." Kisuke looked sadly at his step-son. "And they will be beautiful and strong, just like their parents. If I go now, perhaps I will be one of them, ne?"

Ichigo reached for Shiro's hand under the table, and the albino looked up with a bit of shock on his face. He took in what was happening and the twins exchanged a glance. Then the more vibrant spoke, "You wish for us to end your suffering, Uncle Kisuke. We will miss you dearly if you do this, but..." He looked around, and nodded, "none of us will stand in your way." A gentle caress of power touched each of them; the orange haired King was getting a better handle on controlling himself.

Aizen stood up and held out his hand for the elder. "Come with me. I know a spell...it will send you to sleep, and while doing so, your soul will be freed from this pain-ridden shell. Come, Kisuke-san. I hope your next life is kinder to you than this one."

The other three still stayed as far as possible away from the butterfly. His wings had turned pitch-black, and that had only ever happened once. When he had discovered his Key had been broken, when he had been forced to watch his love be sacrificed in the name of a holy war, the first time. None of them had ever seen such pain, nor such destruction before or since. Whole countries—whole _civilizations_—for all that he was handsome and unthreatening, he scared the living shit out of them all.

"Arigatou gozaimasu, Aizen-san." The ancient man gratefully took the offered assistance. He gave a smile to each of the others in turn. "I look forward to actually seeing you, Death-san. I'm told you are truly a sight to see just before one's eyes see nothing else." Then he allowed the butterfly to guide him to his bedroom, shuffling, slow steps, leaning heavily on the demon's arm.

As soon as they were out of sight, Gin sobbed into Renji's chest. He couldn't do anything, and truly didn't want to hold his step-father back from his eternal sleep, but that didn't make the pain any less. Ichigo clenched Shiro's hand and the twins sighed as one, leaning back into the embraces of their mates. This was definitely not how the King had envisioned the confrontation going. There was still the warlock to find, but he began to put things together, and an idea was beginning to form. The gold eyes of his twin caught the light in his own, and nodded once, going back to his book to find the spell he needed. It would be painful, drawn out and slow to kill. The woman would know exactly what the others had felt and live through it three times over by the time the King was done with her.

Death laid a kiss on his mate's head and rose to follow the pair. There was shuffling as the Horsemen helped the elder to lay down. Not long after that, Aizen's not-voice once more rose and fell in the familiar makings of a spell, this one a spell he had not used in many centuries. In fact, it almost sounded like—no, he _was_—**singing**. A sweet, gentle melody. His not-voice rang clear and washed gently over the man in the bed, like a lullaby, pulling him towards sleep—and toward Death. It was less of a pull, however, and more of a lift, and the longer he sang, the less pain Urahara felt. This was a spell for releasing the soul, first designed to gently release tortured souls from the body they were trapped in, typically used on soldiers as they lay dying on the battlefield. It promised rest, relief from pain, and soft wings to carry the soul forth.

A few minutes later, Ulquiorra's black shadow slipped through the roof, arms wrapped around an exceptionally young-looking male soul, whose face was pressed gently into the soft skin of Ulquiorra's neck.

In the room with the others, Ichigo lifted his cup to his lips for the first time, eyes closed and breathing deeply. He would savor this cup, in this place, in this way, because it was the last such cup he vowed he would ever drink. Tea just wasn't tea without the elders who made it, and those had passed on to their next lives. Memories played unbidden across his closed eyelids and he could hear the soft keening from his right side, which told him that the slender kitsune felt the same.

"Is he...really gone, King?" Shiro's voice was quiet as he ran his hand across the cover of his book.

This man, this strange, at times perverted, old man, had been the twins' last connection to their old life. To the one they'd lived with their parents, happily around the corner and down a few blocks. It was like the end of an era, heavy and melancholy with the longing of days gone by. The orangette nodded, not trusting his voice, and felt the weight of his monochromatic brother laying his head against his shoulder. He reached out and placed his hand over Shiro's on the book. Quiet reflection keeping the normally boisterous duo solemn and reserved.

The horsemen did the same, saluting the departed spirit with solemn faces and quiet spirits. When Ulquiorra and Aizen returned, they joined the others at the table. Aizen's wings were folded against his back, but they were still black as pitch despite his expression being entirely serene. When their tea was finished, as one the Horsemen gave their cups a half-turn to the left before upending it—a salute to the life just finished and the life just begun.

At that point, Aizen rose, wings flaring. "Excuse me, my Liege. I have something I need to do."

Before the butterfly could leave, Ichigo spoke, voice soft but heavy with power, "Aizen." He opened his eyes and looked up over the rim of his tea cup. "Where are you going?"

Famine paused, but didn't turn around. "I am going," he said softly, dangerously, "to find that little _chit_. Doing so will break several laws of reality. It isn't safe for anyone else. I'm the only one with the experience needed to survive this venture. And when I'm done, I will undo everything and bring her to you for further punishment."

The other three demons shuddered as one. Ulquiorra and Renji pulled their respective mates into their laps, wrapping around the albino and the kitsune as completely as possible. Grimmjow pressed himself to the floor behind Ichigo with a small whimper. The butterfly in this mode was the scariest thing ever.

"See that you do."

Though he had only felt a fraction of the pain his Third had experienced over the centuries, and had only been Awake as King for the better part of a few hours, Ichigo was taking to it, quite literally, as though he'd been born for the job. His speech patterns were already shifting so that what he said actually was what he meant, and what he didn't say...well, his twin, the kitsune, and the Court were glad that reality didn't listen to his thoughts.

"We'll meet you back at the Shrine. Bring the warlock when you come. She and I will have words."

Aizen smiled over his shoulder, and it was not a nice smile. It was like staring into the eyes of the ugliest face of Death itself and finding it was smirking back in anticipation. Ulquiorra turned even more ashen than he already was. Grimmjow pressed against Ichigo's legs. Renji squeaked and shielded his mate with his whole body. Then Aizen abruptly disappeared, leaving nothing but a trace of dust.

Ichigo reached down and stroked his Consort's hair, enjoying the last few drinks of tea. "We have preparations to make. I fully expect each of you to be present when the warlock is brought in. She has much to answer for, and the Four have an apocalypse to create for her alone." He looked around the room, sadly.

Ulquiorra simply nodded, still ashen, body shaking. "We will be pleased to help you punish her," he assured, voice much steadier than his body.

Grimmjow shuddered, but also nodded. "I seen tha' face b'fore Ichi. Holocaust," he whispered, eyes wide and obviously traumatized.

Renji closed his eyes and mimicked his azure counterpart. "Ah. His key was involved in that one. Never had m' job taken from me like that b'fore…"

The redhead trailed off into a heavy silence that lasted for a few minutes, each of the gathered group just breathing and processing the implications of such a statement. Then Shiro brought them back to the present.

"Sum'body'll hafta tell Goat Face 'bout it."

He had shifted so his cheek rested against Ulquiorra's shoulder, but his hand remained linked with his twin's. Ichigo nodded, but added nothing to the sentence. Again, a melancholy silence descended. It seemed to be the theme for the day, quiet reflection over the memories of a man that had lived the equivalent of over ten consecutive human lifetimes.

Gin sniffled and said, sadly, "Ya really think Otou-san could be one o' th' kits, Tiger?"

"Sure," Renji assured. "When the soul is attached enough, it tends ta try'n be reborn where an' when they can see their loved ones again. I was born as m'own kid once. Fuck, tha' life nearly drove me insane, what wit' confusin' my mother for m' wife as the memories battled for supremacy. So it's entirely possible he'll be one of ours," Renji assured him, nuzzling into his neck.

The kitsune seemed to be comforted by the redhead's words. It would be a long while before anyone else could even sense the budding souls, but it didn't stop the sex demon from rubbing his hand across his stomach protectively anyway. Renji nuzzled his mate, also rubbing his belly, eyes going soft as he did, filling with love for his lover and their children. Catching the good feeling, Ulquiorra encased Shiro with his wings, closing them both in a large bubble of black.

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**A/N 2:** Again, sorry Hinamori fans! x.x She's our real villain here...and things get pretty gruesome for her.


	10. The Awakening: Chapter 10

**A/N:** Moshi mosh, Minna! Warning! Someone's about to get what's coming to her! It gets a bit graphic. So, anyone with weak stomachs should probably be wary once we start talking about the Trial. And since we're talking about graphic, there is an interlude chapter that goes into explicit detail about what exactly Aizen did when he took off from the Shoten in the last chapter. Let me know if you guys want me to post it. Enjoy, ja ne!

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Only Conquest remained shaken by the events of that morning, shivering lightly against Ichigo's side.

"Easy, Grimm. I trust him. None of this makes sense to me in my head, but," The King looked down at the head of blue hair in his lap, and shrugged, "you're always saying I should listen to my gut more."

"I trust 'im too. I jus' seen what he c'n do when he's like _that,_" the feline murmured, and his tail fluffed at the tip. "An' ya _should _trust yer gut," he asserted with a little grin.

Ignoring the other two pairs getting all lovey to either side of him, Ichigo's mouth curled into a smirk he'd picked up from his twin, "Is that a hint, kitty boy?"

"Meeeeebbeeeee," Grimmjow drawled, slinking under the table, blue eyes glinting out at him above a floating baring of white, fanged teeth much like the legendary Cheshire cat.

"If you're doing that now, we aren't doing it where my brother and best friend can watch."

An orange eyebrow quirked, but though the words shimmered in the air, nothing about reality changed. Though that may have mostly been because Gin had Renji in a lip-lock that blocked the redhead's singular vision, and Ulquiorra's wings were wrapped around Shiro, hiding the mostly monochromatic duo from sight.

Grimmjow snickered. "Oh Ichi. A lil' magical blackout screen's easy enough ta make," he laughed with a scrape of his long black claws over the floor.

"Ok then, I'll be a little more obvious. I'm not having sex in the shop where I grew up. I love you, you're the sexiest thing I've ever seen, even with the new changes, and I love fooling around with you, but this," The orangette gestured to the room. "I was a kid here. I watched my sister throw her first punch here. Shiro threw up in that corner after eating so much of Uncle Kisuke's candy that he got a bellyache. So, no, Grimm, not here."

The feline poked his head out from under the table, long ears perked up and forward. "Sex? Whoever said anythin' bout that? Sex is fer _after _th' torture, Ichi. No, now I jus' wanna play. Tag er somethin'."

At that, Ichigo smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I've traded my boyfriend for a giant housecat..." He muttered, chuckling.

"Tha' also means ya git a lil' kitty-cat tongue an' barbs," Grimm replied sweetly before disappearing back under the table.

A full-body shiver took hold of the orangette as he thought back to the things his Consort had done to him the night before. He bent down, ungracefully to look under the table. "That's cheating, you know!"

Grimmjow's tail waved. "Hardly. Jus' informin' ya of the new perks."

"Yeah, uh huh, and you have absolutely no ulterior motives." The words flew from his mouth and two seconds later, the King froze. "No! Wait! I mean...shit! Argh. This is so annoying. Just when I think I've got a handle on it."

The orangette scooted his hips so he could flop back on the cushion he'd been sitting on with his arm over his face. True to form, any previously sexual thought had abruptly vanished from Grimmjow's head, so he tried to be comforting as he leapt over to his mate and nuzzled at him.

"Aw, you'll get th' hang of it sooner 'r later, love."

"I can't be sarcastic." One amber eye peered up at the feline above him. "Do you know how irritating that is?"

Snickers from the other side of his arm brought the other honey-amber eye into view, as the King leveled his twin with a glare. The albino leered with the same smirk Ichigo had worn not five minutes before. "Guess I'll jus' hafta be th' sarcastic one from now on, ne _King_?"

"That's it!"

Ichigo dove for his twin, knocking the pale copy from Death's lap and rolling across the floor with him. They smacked into the wall, rattling the shoji screen, pulling hair and clothing, growling and laughing. A punch was swung and missed. Toes dug into the tatami mat, and they rolled back towards the table again. Ichigo pinned Shiro, sitting on his back, but the albino bit his brother's leg and the pair were toppled again in a pile of arms and legs as both tried to win the spot of rider.

As the pair wrestled past, Gin tilted his head, "Shouldn' we do somethin' 'bout them? I mean, th' King did say ta meet So-So back at th' Shrine, didn' he?"

Renji's ears perked. "Wait, wait, tha's So-So? Really? Bu'...if he's got a key...and he's...but he was...Ishida...uuuhh, fuck? Z said he was fuckin' im stupid."

Gin giggled, holding his ribs. "So-so doesn't have sex with us, silly Tora. He just wants th' company."

"That don't make sense. Then why…" The redhead frowned in confusion but the tell-tale glint in his mate's grin made him groan. "Oh you sly dog. That why ya said tha' stuff 'bout him bein' th' best lover ya ever had? Cuz ya were teasin' us?"

Again the kitsune giggled, and War grabbed him to pretend to wrestle him to the floor. A few squeals of entertainment that had both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra rolling their eyes pretending not to be jealous of the more physical relationships around them.

"Z is gonna flip when he finds out ya were yankin' his chain 'bout So-so las' night." Renji growled.

That made the twins stop and look at the redhead. Shiro being held down, wrists and ankles, upside down and Ichigo on top, but with the same expression, slight disappointment and a hint of jealousy. In one voice, they whined, "You went to Sin!? Aww!"

The redhead smirked, holding his mate gently around the waist. "O'course. I worked there, y'know. Fought for 'em, danced afterward an' everythin'."

"Well yeah, but..."

"...was one'a th' best parts o' bein' friends wi' ya."

They were talking in that twin-speak again.

"So, didja win?" Shiro leered, even more distorted by being upside down.

"Baka! Of course he did! Rage always won." Ichigo smacked his twin, freeing one of the albino's hands to do it.

The resulting scuffling had their positions reversed, when Shiro asked, "Who'd ya mop th' floor wi' this time?"

Gin froze, watching his mate from his place secure within the larger male's arms, his laughter dying away.

"Oh, jus' t'night's Gold," Renji answered casually. "I din't get away scot free either," he admitted, hand coming up to touch his blind eye before he managed to control the reflex.

Ulquiorra's wing twitched as he frowned. "That must have hurt."

"It did." The redhead then gave his mate a kiss in comfort.

The twins echoed, "HOLY SHIT!"

As obviously neither one had noticed the fact that their long-time friend was now half-blinded. Falling out of the pin, the two scrambled over to him, practically pouncing him, much in the energy of a pair of over-eager puppies. First, Shiro grabbed his chin hauling his face around to stare at the scars. Then, Ichigo batted the white hand away to twist War's head around to the exact opposite direction. This incited another glaring contest as both hands gripped a piece of the redhead's shirt. It lasted for a minute or two, then as one they looked down at Renji.

"I can fix it."

Gin squeaked and almost fell off of his mate's lap. "AH! So violent! Are they al'ays like this?"

Renji burst out laughing. "Yeah, yeah they are, luv."

Grimmjow was also laughing, holding his stomach at their antics. It was good to see, to feel, that things were, at least in some aspects, still very normal. "Ya seriously overlooked it all this time?"

Also as one, the twins blushed, though as usual one was more colorful than the other, and the blush was accompanied by the trademark scowl that all but one of the Kurosaki clan could pull off. Sitting back on their butts, legs crossed, still on opposite sides of Renji, they continued to glare at each other, more embarrassed by acting in duplicate than the altercation. They hated being referred to as a set, and did everything they could to play up their differences, though neither would admit that they'd be lost without each other.

"So, do ya want it fixed?" Shiro huffed.

"Like you could do it." Ichigo sniffed.

"I've had more practice." The albino growled.

"So? Cosmos...listening." The orangette made a twirling type motion with his finger at the sky and stuck his tongue out.

Gin felt very much like he was in the middle of a tennis match, gaze shifting from one twin to the other in rapid succession as they argued. "Mah..." He tried.

Shiro cut him off, mimicking Ichigo, "Oh yah, tha's really gonna c'nvince me. Real m'ture."

"If it's so immature, then why'd you do it too?" The King did it again.

"Cuz you did."

"So?"

Gin tried a second time, "But I a'ready...uh..."

The albino cut him off, "Yer jus' gettin' yer feet on th' ground."

"All ya've ever done was keep yer nose in yer books." Ichigo's speech slid into the same manner as Shiro's, the way it always did when they argued.

"Cuz you always laughed at me. Not so stupid now, is it, _King_?" Again Shiro put emphasis on it, which made Ichigo cringe.

"I know! An' ya don't think I don't feel 'bout it? If I'd paid better attention to ya, wakin' up this mornin' wouldn't've been so bad." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ya know I was speakin'...what was it, Grimm?"

"Gaelic, then French, then German wit' smatterin's of Japanese," The panther supplied.

"Hold up a fuckin' second," Renji broke in exasperatedly before the argument could be resumed. "Gin a'ready healed it, a'right?! I'm fin', these 'r mah spoils o' war."

Both twins gave a defeated noise that they absolutely refused to admit sounded the same, and muttered. "Just trying to help."

After a few moments of blessed silence, in which the only sound was that of everyone shuffling around in their seats a bit as the tension of the room grew, Shiro frowned. "King, things'll never be like that again will they? I could feel yer power durin' that. Yer like...I don't think I c'n get anywhere near that even if I studied fer th' rest o' my..."

Ichigo swept around Renji, grabbed his twin, both of them hearing the unspoken fear. Ichigo was the King. Shiro would only ever be a mage who happened to be lucky enough to be married to one of the Horsemen.

Ulquiorra glanced up from reading Shiro's book of shadows. "Mate. You are aware that as his twin you are his balance? When there is a King," he looked back down, and turned a page, tail flicking, "there must be...a Horse. To both support the King and to undo what he has done, should it be necessary. Why do you think those in the King line are born in pairs?"

Renji blinked his good eye and went slinking back to his mate. "And no offense, ya two...I jus'...don' wanna be fussed over, yeah?"

The pair blinked at Ulquiorra and both blushed, though they didn't separate or respond to the redhead's statement. Shiro tucked under Ichigo's chin, the orangette wrapped his arms around the albino's shoulders, and sitting in Shiro's lap, his legs mimicked his arms around his twin's waist. So, Shiro crossed his wrists behind Ichigo's back, and tucked his feet up into a cross-legged seat for his King. They didn't seem to have a place where one ended and the other began.

Gin giggled at the display, doing his own wrapping around Renji, and tilted his head, "Not that this ain't fun, but So-So'll be back at the Shrine b'fore long."

The remaining three Horsemen flinched and chorused with identical looks of wariness. "We know."

"We can feel the pull on his power lessening," Ulquiorra added. "He could take only limited resources from his Pool of Power here, thanks to the limits put on him by the curse. While with Urahara's death the curse has been broken, he left in such a rush he had no time to replenish his stores."

"Ain' jus' tha'," Grimmjow chimed in, tail twitching nervously. "He's still achin', deep in th' soul. We all c'n feel it. But...it's less. He's inflictin'... lots o' damage. Gettin' ta th' point where she's barely 'live."

Ichigo looked hard. "He may not kill her. Death, do not collect her soul. It will remain bound to her body, regardless of damage, until I have decided to show mercy."

Shivers ran down Shiro's spine, "Damn, King..."

"Sorry, Shii." The orangette nuzzled his twin, but his eyes remained focused. He spoke to nothing, but everything listened, "Take My Court back to the Shrine."

There was a ripple through reality, and the six of them found themselves in the courtyard of the Shrine. The evidence of their arrival was in the way a flurry of leaves from the trees lining the open area settled just after them. Ichigo immediately stood out of Shiro's embrace, striding over to the Northern building, and as he walked the place changed. An imposing throne grew out of nothing, but melding into the stonework of both the wall and the ground. The Four, in their released forms, made up the rest of the frame carved into statues so lifelike that they almost seemed to breathe. War and Conquest leapt out to the front, creating snarling armrests. Death and Famine's wings stretched up to form the back. And around the base were humans struggling and fighting amongst themselves, falling and dying in battle, the hands of Hell reaching up to pull them down into their eternal torment.

The King turned, and in one motion the sheet he still wore became the Robes of Hades, blood red with black flames licking up his arms, legs and the hem of his cloak. Out of his Third Eye grew the Crown of Judgement, an elaborate filigree in some metal that wasn't gold, or silver, or platinum, but shone with His Divine Presence. Then he sat and a shockwave blew through the courtyard, preparing it for the Trial.

It was then, summoned back by the command of his King, a very unwilling Aizen returned, dragging what appeared to be a mangled lump off meat, like a thoroughly beaten side of beef, carelessly across the ground. He was covered head to toe in blood, even his wings dripped with the red substance, and his eyes were glowing with demonic bloodlust and continuing rage as he threw the lump before the King's throne. Then it moaned.

The warlock. She had been skinned alive, her flesh salted, burned, and the tender burns whipped before her dragging across the rough stone ground, leaving a brush-trail of blood behind. And by all indications Aizen had not nearly been done with her.

As the Four took their places around the courtyard, at the four compass points, Ulquiorra stared impassively. As Death he had seen the kinds of atrocities humans forced on each other. Thus, no matter how violent or gruesome the cause was he would be unaffected, but Renji and Grimmjow both winced. War killed as a matter of necessity and Conquest laid claim without destroying when possible. This level of torture and agony was beyond them. Famine, however, caused _months_ of suffering before allowing its victims to succumb. Aizen embodied this to a T.

Ichigo looked down his nose at the whimpering pile of bones. "Mage, heal her but do nothing to remove the pain."

Shiro, addressed as his title, shivered again and approached the beaten form. It, for in this state of injury no gender existed, tried to wince away, expecting another blow. The albino murmured his healing prayer and the stone glowed repairing flesh and bone, growing muscles and skin, removing the physical evidence of Famine's torture. When the small woman was left on the cobblestones, nude for the spell could not re-clothe her, she looked around and her face went pale. Shiro stepped back and she threw herself at Ichigo's feet.

"Lord of Creation, please! PLEASE! Forgive a poor, misguided wretch, who was gripped by the evil of heartbreak! Have mercy, I beg of you! What I did as a child was deplorable! I swear! I never meant—"

"Silence, Warlock!" Gin hissed, appearing from his mist cloud above Ichigo's left shoulder.

The woman whimpered, her forehead on the ground and her hands stretched out trying to clutch at the King's robes, but through a trick of the wind the fabric pulled itself from her grasp. Shiro frowned pityingly down at the betrayer, and almost said something kind, but the wind blew her scent into his face. This made him sneer.

"She reeks of Dark Magic. Traitorous she-rat. Sell your morals for the power to conjure. Your kind make me sick. Sneak-thieves who earn your spells by turning your backs on your craft!" The albino spat on her, and the spittle burned like acid, making her cry out and clutch her hand to her chest. "See what your treasonist actions get you."

Ichigo held up a hand and his twin left the thing to whimper, taking a stance behind the King's right shoulder. "Famine..." The orangette spoke softly, "Continue."

Aizen smiled, and somehow his teeth had all turned to points. He made a hand gesture, and the pool of Ley Line magic keyed to him glowed as chains shot up from floor and walls to hold the warlock in a vicious spread-eagle crosstie. Now closer to the source of his power, he could do things he previously could not...

Over several hours, where the woman was healed and submitted to further torture, Ichigo summoned a drink of tea, Shiro and Gin became increasingly pale, and the sun marched on across the sky. Just as it was about to set, the light slid into a ring atop the West building, that of Death, and the King stood, signaling an end to the trial.

Shiro immediately moved in to heal the tattered piece of woman for the last time.

Grimm was hiding under the throne by then, head buried in his own legs to block out the screams. All that was visible of the mighty panther was the rounded curve of his back where he didn't quite fit completely under the stone chair. It took Renji to pull the shivering feline out to stand in his appointed place. Ulquiorra stood ready, nonplussed as before, but with a tension on the edges of his frame that showed his true distaste for such drawing out of punishment. Aizen dismissed the chains, magic, and let her fall. He wasn't truly satisfied. He never would be, but he felt he could let it go now. He, as the rest, awaited the King's Judgement in his place.

Ichigo strode regally up to the collapsed form, too exhausted to supplicate for mercy a third time. He took her chin in his hand, forced her to look into his eyes, and pity overtook his features. He ran his thumb across her lips, and she opened them, desperate for any kind of affection after all that torment. She even began to weep at the tenderness with which he caressed her skin.

"I have reached my decision. Hinamori Momo, your sentence will be to walk this plane, never finding rest, never finding a place to call home until you have taken three steps for every moment the Four have suffered at your hands. Where your foot touches the earth will be as walking upon a bed of hot coals, even in the coldest of climates. Food will taste as ash on your tongue, and liquid will be as acid down your throat. Magic will turn on you as you have turned your back on Me." His voice was soft, almost sad. "You will re-live the agony of the Four until the skies have fallen and time itself has ended. Then, and only then, will you be taken to Hell to begin serving your sentence as you agreed when you gained your powers as a warlock. All this, and the thread of Fate your Karma has accrued you will carry, and you will do so..." His hand trailed up her cheek until his thumb brushed her brow. "blind."

Ichigo shoved his thumb into her eye, popping the organ like a tomato. As she screamed and blood ran down her face, he repeated the process, all the while his expression was cool, relaxed, and even soft.

Aizen's wings fluttered and turned a pinkish purple of enjoyment that thoroughly frightened the other Three, even as Grimmjow hid his face again and Ulquiorra turned away. Renji simply crossed his arms and nodded. War approved. Sometimes to win the war, you had to devastate the other side. To win the war for Famine's eternal soul, for his sanity, the enemy, the warlock, had to be ultimately and completely devastated. This, he understood.

The King left the warlock to crumple, and held out his hand. Immediately, Gin was there with a towel to clean the blood and mucus away. Still, Ichigo's voice was sad, "Famine, take it where you will, but return as soon as you have disposed of it. Court dismissed."

He turned his back on her, and with measured steps entered the North building. Shiro seemed torn, uncertain whether his twin wanted him to follow, and Gin bit his lip, balling up the towel in his mist to be cleaned.

The butterfly picked up the female's crumpled form and disappeared in a flutter of wings. When he returned many hours later, he sought his bed immediately, having exerted more energy today than in the last several centuries. At that moment though, Grimmjow scurried after his mate. He didn't know what Ichi's mental state was, but he sure as Hell wasn't leaving him alone. Ulquiorra wrapped a comforting wing around his mate and Renji just heaved a deep sigh, kissed Gin, and said he'd be waiting back in their bed.

Shiro turned into Ulquiorra's embrace, and as he had for the last three years, he left the blue-haired panther to comfort his brother. The Mage mumbled a small spell, drawing on the Ley Line connected to his mate, to bolster them both, then he turned tired gold eyes to the emerald gaze of his bat, "Bed?"

Within the bedroom, with his back to the windows that opened on the courtyard, Ichigo breathed deeply, trying not to let his mind think in terms of humanity and being fair and all of the other things he'd grown up with. It resulted in a storm of guilt that was destroyed by anger and then washed over by pain, then drowned in a psychotic burble of relief knowing he'd gotten through his first official duty as King without anyone but the intended target getting hurt. He hadn't torn a rift in reality, and the world still operated normally. But he shivered, wrapping his arms around his ribs. His robes were piled on the floor, and the crown had shrunk to be a simple circlet he couldn't remove. It turned out that once the Crown of Judgement was donned it meant he accepted his role as the Demon King, but he had at least figured out how to make it less ostentatious.

It was finished. The curse broken, those laid to rest who should have been given eternal sleep centuries ago, and the Court of Souls re-established after millennia of chaos. Deaths could be recorded now. Wars could be won. Conquests could be claimed. And the turmoil and suffering of the world could be curtailed because the King had returned to alleviate Famine's pain. The sun set over Japan and the young man who bore the Crown rested his eyes, weary from only a day's worth of ruling.

Across the world, away from the blood, and the violence, and the darkness of Tokyo, the sunlight streamed over a field of waving grasses, the sky so blue it looked painted. There was a giggle and a boy of six toddled through the wildflowers with hair the color of sunshine and a wide infectious grin. He tripped over his shoe-lace, that he refused to allow his mother to tie, and tumbled onto the ground. He blinked at the rattling sound that started just in front of his nose. A snake, blotchy chevrons of dark brownish grey over a yellowy-cream, dark stripes like tears connecting its unblinking eyes to the corners of its sneering mouth. Before the boy could even make a sound, he'd be bitten, but then something landed on his nose. A large, white thing. Feelers caressed the boy's eyebrows, and tiny, tickling feet gripped his skin. There was the soft flutter of wings and the rattling stopped. The boy sat up, staring at the thing on his nose, and as the shimmering wings flapped lazily a few times there was a not-voice, soft and comforting on the breeze.

_I will always protect you, my Key._

Then the butterfly took off, in a swarm of the beautiful creatures, circling around the field and up into that azure sky, as the boy's mother dove on him in relieved tears. Together they watched as the butterflies blended into the clouds, disappearing from view, and the breeze pulled at the grasses, kissing their skin like the touch of a long lost lover.

**~End Part 1~**


	11. All's Fair In: Chapter 1

**A/N:** Sorry I'm late, minna! Anyone who's interested in the further punishment of Hinamori can go read TDK: Karma of the Warlock which I just posted as a bonus this week, but mind the warnings, loves. As for this...welcome to Part 2! This centers primarily on Gin and Renji (Kudos to those who get the pun in the title, fu fu fu). Only major warnings for this are gratuitous sex (c'mon we're talking about a kitsune here, how could there not be sex? lol) and mpreg! So those of you who don't like it can scurry away, and I'll come find you when we get past it. For everyone else, enjoy! Ja ne!

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**Part 2: All's Fair In...**

Gin sighed, a rather uncharacteristic expression for the kitsune who'd become The Jester in the Court of Souls, but it was how he felt. The King, in his naive human way of thinking, had just been given absolute proof that the silver-haired sex demon was indeed carrying kits. Three to be precise, but the rest of the Court didn't need to know that part yet. It would only serve to confuse the humans and excite the Horsemen early. Plus, the fox in him enjoyed the idea of keeping it a surprise.

After all, most of the Court was unaware that every molecule in his body was attuned to his conscious mind. He could even speed up or slow down his heart if he wanted to. It was all part of being a kitsune. He had to be that connected to himself in order to pull off the kinds of transformation, manifestation, and teleportation spells he cast on an almost hourly basis. Heh, try getting from the East building to the kitchen and back again without losing a single tail, let alone from one side of the Veil to the other. So, of course he knew exactly how many kits there were, how big they were, and where each microscopic bundle of cells was growing within him at any given moment. He had to, or he risked losing them on his way to and from the bathroom! Which brought him back around to why he was sighing, alone, in the room he shared with his mate.

War was off handling some conflict, or turning the tide of some insurgency. It would take years if they were lucky to bring peace back to the mortal world. Millennia of humans running their own affairs had, pardon the expression, royally fucked things up. Gin expected that. He knew what he was attempting when he agreed to accept his destiny. He shuddered thinking briefly of the alternative. No, he was glad he'd done what he'd done to find and win Renji. It was just that...according to Ichigo, when a 'woman' learned she was pregnant for the first time, usually the father of her cub was there with her. For all intents and purposes, his mate had been there, but then the King had made the comment that it was a shame the redhead had to miss out on watching the little plastic stick turn colors.

That part wasn't so bad, the kitsune reasoned, but it was New Year's Eve...and _that _was a big deal. A big deal indeed, particularly to kitsune, as that was the time of the year when humans were at their most vulnerable. A time of indecision, and easily-broken oaths, just waiting for an opportunistic sex demon to appear to take advantage of such situations. All in all it was a time of successful hunts and family reunions, when cubs and parents would come together, sometimes for the first time in years, to exchange stories and bits of Essence. It was also a time to begin teaching kits how to hunt a human in earnest, and let them taste their own first sweet victory. For an orphaned vulpine like Gin, it was especially painful that his mate was away, unable to even celebrate in the human fashion.

Which was why, without telling anyone, Renji had said "fuck the war" for tonight and tomorrow so he could find a suitable present and get home in time to spend a night pampering and enjoying his lover. He might have work to do, but the work would keep—unlike the onward march of time towards the witching hour. He had found three things he hoped would be a good gift.

The first was a 'sex basket'. Humans came up with the most interesting things, and it came with different lubes they could experiment with, a booklet of 'sex coupons' that thoroughly confused him as to their use due to his most recent human life having been in essence celibate—but they sounded like fun anyway—and a couple of toys that had made him blush as red as his hair when he thought about actually using them on either himself or his mate.

More traditionally, he had gotten a small, sweet cake in the shape of a small fox. It was almost eerie how well the bakery had been able to capture his lover's exact grin on the fondant. He was certain the irony of how it looked would be a perfect addition to the Jester's jovial attitude on a day when he had been told the silver-haired male was usually less than enthusiastic.

However, his crowning achievement in his hunt for gifts was the smallest box. A present he was most nervous about: a ring. It was a simple band of white gold, with the same glimmery sheen as Gin's mist cloud. He told himself over and over that he had nothing to worry about. Really they were already Marked and Mated so it was hardly necessary but his human lives still rested close to the surface of his memory. They, and so he, wanted to see that mark of proud claim—'this man has agreed to be mine, hands off!'—in such a way that even magic-blind humans could understand. And it scared the living daylights out of him that the noble vulpine might trivialize, or worse be insulted, by his desire to show off his love in such a mundane materialistic manner.

In the darkened space the pair shared, once again a delicate, androgynous hand that had nails long enough to be called claws, drew down the faded image behind the glass in the cold iron frame. It was enchanted, one of the few spells his Otousan had still been able to cast, so that it would never deteriorate further than it was, but the painting was old. So old now in fact that humans no longer even knew the kinds of pigments used on it. So there was no way to restore it to its former glory. He still remembered clear as day, the vibrant purple of her hair, the sunset in her eyes, the color of a honey-oak that was her skin—his Kaa-chan. New Year's had always been her favorite, and it was on this day he missed her most. He knew now that she'd been hunted by the warlock for her tails, all nine of them, but the fact that the despicable female had been Tried and Punished wasn't enough to ease the ache of far too many missed holidays.

The same hand that had caressed the glass, dropped to cup where his belly would be in several months, "I'll never miss a holiday wit' ya. Ever." He promised, a teardrop sliding down his nose to freeze in mid-air, a crystalline, diamond.

Just then the door gave a quiet click as it opened, War was trying to get his gifts hidden before his mate got back from Court. However, when light from the hallway spilled into their room, he saw Gin holding the picture and an unmistakable frozen tear on the tip of his nose. Immediately, he set all three presents aside on a table and went straight to his lover, his fire-like magic springing up protectively to melt the growing frost in the room.

"Are you okay, Gin?"

Ice blue eyes blinked up, unbelievingly, at his mate as he scrambled to hide the picture. "Y-ya said ya weren't c-comin' home!" He quickly wiped his cheeks, but his ears betrayed him almost as surely as the involuntary swallow he made. "Som'thin' 'bout gorillas in th' Easter dessert, er som'thin'?"

"Guerrilla troops in the eastern desert, love," The redhead corrected softly, nuzzling at his throat, then his cheek, hands petting his hair, back, and tails, trying to soothe his mate's pain on instinct. "Shortly after hanging up, I realized what day it was…and New Year's Eve waits for no-one, not even War, before turning into New Year's Day. I refuse to miss our first New Year's, love. Now come on...tell your mate what's wrong." He tilted the kitsune's chin up to give him a soft kiss of comfort.

"Oh..." Gin's voice was soft, yet another major indicator that things were not right in Foxy Land.

He let his hands slide back from the frame of his picture. The regal kitsune woman was majestic in spite of the faded ink, but retained her clearly mischievous nature as several places were smudged, like the painter had needed to change the lines in order to accommodate her moving. But the most obvious part was her belly, rounded with pregnancy.

"Otousan said he'd had 'er pose like that just in case..." He sniffled. "H-he knew, Aiko...he knew she wouldn't...wouldn't...I miss 'er, Aiko...so much..."

It wasn't hard to tell it was the vulpine's mother. "I know ya do love. I can't blame ya." He reached around the silver-haired man's slender shoulders so his thumb could rub the edge of the frame with the kind of tenderness only inspired by and for his mate. "She looks like an amazin' woman."

"I...I wanna do 'er proud, Tora...wit' th' kits I mean..."

There was the root of the trouble. Missing her was obvious, but this was his first litter. And now, thanks to the warlock, he had neither the kitsune who'd birthed him or the human who'd raised him when she died.

Renji held him close to that strong chest. "You will, Gin," he promised, but his voice was a whisper as a lump rose in his throat.

The redhead, too, was an orphan, at least his most recent human life had been. Growing up on the streets, never really knowing where he fit in or doing any of the things normal children did. He hadn't even had any real friends until he'd met the twins that would eventually become the King and the Mage. So, if the conflict wasn't wrapped up when the kits were born—and it wouldn't be—what could he do? He had to be around for his children, the memories of that life were too fresh to ignore the pull it had on his heart, even if he'd wanted to. But how could he keep the fighting in control _and _keep in contact with his mate _and _be a good father to his children? He desperately wanted to be, for his mate and for the kits. But how could he do that _and _his job? Even he couldn't be in more than one place at once.

The kitsune turned to snuggle into his mate's embrace, oblivious of the turmoil circling the tiger's mind. "I hope so. Aiko. I hope so." He was quiet for a short time, then looked up, his trademarked smile growing on his face. "Feed me?"

The redhead raised one eyebrow high. "I suppose you don't mean the human kind, eh?"

"Uh-uh." The Jester's grin grew wider, and twisted around so he could look at his lover head on. He reached up to lick along his lover's jaw line, tickling the scar from his fight with Byakuya. "Ya've been away fer a month...an' we're hungrrry...prrrr."

"Oh-ho, so the kits need a good Feeding as well? Good," the Second pulled his shirt off over his head, then shucked pants and boxers. He then grinned and kissed Gin, pulling the smaller male down on top of him as he dropped the glamour he used while interacting with humans—he'd been so worried about his soulmate's mental health before that he'd forgotten to dismiss the spell.

The kitsune purred, kissing back, and running his hands over the planes of that ebony-lined chest. His tails wagging happily, and grinding against his mate. Renji groaned softly, head pressing back to bare the column of his neck, the black lines already starting to glow with soft power. The Jester pressed the knot of his yukata into the tiger's hand, whimpering and nipping around the place where crimson hair gave way to crimson fur.

War's thick fingers fumbled a bit to untie it, but when he did he pushed the light material off his body entirely and he melted, purring and growling. "Fuuuck mate, you know howwwww my earrrrs arrrre," he rumbled, voice dark and pleasured.

"Exactly..." The vulpine purred back at him, "All th' better ta Eat ya, Tiger." His sharpened teeth combed through that fur, nipping at the flesh underneath, as his words vibrated through it.

The redhead feline's tail curled and twisted as his hips bucked and he moaned loud and long, lines glowing bright and hot all the way to his chest, streaking towards his hips, spurred on heavily by the teeth on his ear. They were horrendously sensitive.

Blunt claws traced the unlit lines, dragging sparks in varying shades of cool white-blue, like the brightest of electricity and the air of a winter morning. Gin ran his tongue after his fingers, licking up the sparks, and igniting them beneath the surface of the tiger's skin.

Renji moaned, kneading at his shoulders. "Dear…uuhhnnn," he hissed, twitching and shuddering in reaction to his chakras and pressure points being lit up like a holiday tree.

In that manner, the kitsune built the last of his lover's Essence, bolstered by the Ley Line beneath them. He drew it up, even as he worked his way down, leaving glowing tattoos in his wake, until he knelt between Renji's legs, nuzzling and simply inhaling his mate's scent from the most concentrated place. His tongue darted out, tasting as well as scenting.

Long fingers twisted in silver hair and the tiger's hips bucked again, balls heavy and swollen with Essence and need. The Second knew everything had to be built up very specifically in order to properly Feed his lover and their kits, but he was eager and wanting right now.

"Mmmmmateeeee," he whined softly.

Gin nuzzled down to his tiger's scrotum, lapping at the sensitive skin. It wouldn't be much longer but he had to fill the lightning bolts that ran between the barbs along the shaft of the large feline's cock. So he took one orb between his lips, and suckled on it, pulling it down away from his body to delay the redhead's orgasm.

The yowl-whine-noise he received in response told the fox how badly his tiger wanted to Feed him as those last precious lines slowly filled. Claws scratched lightly at his scalp as War's horns began to push through his temples slowly, resisting his control.

The vulpine's tongue stretched to draw the other orb into his mouth as well, careful to keep his teeth away from the delicate skin. Then he hummed, with both sound and magic, drawing on those last few centimeters. So close. Another minute or two, then he could do as he liked—take that flagpole, standing proud and flushed above his head, into his throat and swallow it whole.

Just as he completed that body-tingling, mouth-water thought, the very tip of that length lit up in bright fiery red color, leaking like mad, and the tiger whimpered, practically begging his lover to Feed and let him come. That was the sign the Jester had been waiting for! Pulling back, the silver fox-man licked his considerable tongue over his lips in preparation for his feast, then dove without warning on the prick in front of him like a peasant at an imperial banquet. He took the whole thing in one swallow, sucking hard and moaning around it. The shock value of what he did going straight to his own straining member.

Renji roared, dick throbbing with the promise of bursting, but he wasn't quite there yet. Just a few more moments...Gin ran his hands up the redhead's thighs, swallowing around his mouthful and grinding his manhood against the sheets beneath them, creating a rhythm of suck-swallow-grind...Oh hell! War couldn't hold out against _that _type of assault for shit no matter how hard he tried. The tiger roared again and came so hard his toes cracked and cramped.

Greedily the kitsune sucked him down, draining his power lines like the glow was liquid. Again his tails were wagging, and warmth spread through his belly as his mate's Essence flowed into him long after the initial throes of War's orgasm. It created an echo effect that pulled a sympathetic reaction from the fox's body. His manhood, virtually untouched, shot off his own climax onto the sheets. The energy he released was immediately swept up in the second half of the bond, drawn to the tiger as surely as if they had been sucking each other off.

Due to the combination of fire and ice that was the magical dynamic between the Jester and War, any liquid mess that could have stained the blood-red sheets evaporated almost as soon as it touched the air. Their room existed almost constantly in that special place where heat and cold met, where lightning was born, and sublimation was a given, depending on just how worked up the lovers were at any given moment.

As the energies in the room calmed and the temperature stopped fluctuating so badly, the redhead collapsed onto his back with a sigh, eyes falling closed as he petted his mate's hair. "Ooohhh...been way too long love..."

Dutifully, the Jester cleaned his mate's crotch, clearing the last vestiges of power from the strongest of his tattoos, and murred in response, savoring the taste. No Essence tasted as good, or settled his stomach the way his tiger did.

With a sleepy voice Gin asked, "Why ya gotta stay away so long?"

The large feline pulled the other up into his chest and murmured to him softly. "Cuz humans 're stupid an' I'm tryin'a get as much done as I can before the kits're born so I c'n stay home to help ya raise 'em as much as possible."

"I miss ya though..." That quiet tone was back, though it was more muted than before, the pleasant fullness of having just Fed making the kitsune sleepy and drifting.

"We'll hafta think about how t'fix it...after a nap," Renji promised, curling against his mate and being lulled softly towards sleep as well.

Still on the bedside table, forgotten and ignored were the three presents the Second had brought home for his lover.


	12. All's Fair In: Chapter 2

**A/N:** I apologize now for the pun at the end of the chapter. XD It's pretty bad. Anyway, no real notes or anything this week. Enjoy, minna! Ja ne!

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Unfortunately, the issue did not get fixed then or for the next several weeks. The 'gorillas', as Gin kept calling them, made some sort of headway and, almost immediately after the pair celebrated their first holiday together, the redhead was pulled away. The kitsune tried to keep a happy façade but anyone who knew him could tell something just didn't sit right with the way he made his jokes. This meant that when the Third crossed the courtyard just after Candlemas and found the Jester upside down in his mist cloud, staring at the way a mother spider tended the eggsack she'd laid over the course of the winter, something had to be done.

Things were a bit different now, living with the priests and monks who tended to the sacred ground as they went about their daily lives. Each of the Horsemen had a separate building that was their own personal, private sanctuary situated at the four corners of the compass, Conquest in the North, War to the East, Famine to the South, and finally Death to the West. But on the grounds were several other buildings, including a common area which housed the kitchen, library, dining room and a chapel was where the Shrine-keepers performed their daily prayers and rituals—at least until Ichigo had kicked them all out and commandeered the place for something.

And it was the corner between East and South that Gin was inhabiting. With his attention focused on the spider, he never noticed the older demon approaching him. He sighed, a wistful sort of noise, and his tails drifted alternatively into and out of visibility through the mist that supported him. An overall air of discontent hung around the fox.

Having had quite enough of that, Aizen promptly snagged a tail as it disappeared into the cloud and dragged the Jester away from his corner of depression, grumbling under his breath about ridiculous foxes and unhappiness being contagious. After he had brought the other into the kitchen and demanded several different sugar treats of the various appliances, he shoved them on the kitsune before sitting down with two cups of tea. The butterfly gave his best friend-brother-son the most direct stare ever turned on the Court.

"You. Fess up. _Now_."

"MAH! So-so! I was watchin' th' Momma. She was doin' so good too..." He trailed off, looking out the window, eyes closed, and smile fading. His hands curled around the tea cup, warming them. He knew he couldn't avoid the demand. "I...popped t'day..."

"Popped? You know I do not understand common terms," Aizen chastised. "And I'm sure the spider will do just fine weaving without your supervision."

The insides of the fox's ears turned pink. "Th'...um...on my..."

He shifted so the butterfly could clearly see the way he had the sash of his hakama wrapped only once around his hips. The ends hung long due to the unconventional method. He bit his lip, still looking away...he'd wanted Renji to be the first to know, but the King only knew when he was coming home again.

"It won't go all th' way 'round twice no more."

"...oh!" The butterfly's face went soft and he rested one hand on the gentle swell of the kitsune's belly, a tiny smile on his lips. "You are starting to show. Will that not be a wonderful surprise when Renji comes home?"

Though still faintly pink, a bit deeper now that his almost-brother was touching the rise where his kits grew, his ears pinned back into his hair in pain. Gin mumbled, firmly focused on the floor, "By th' time he comes home ev'rybody'll know."

"Incorrect," he replied with a glint of mischief in his eyes not that far removed from the fox's own kind. "He'll be here by this evening." Then the Third sobered, taking a sip of his tea. "However, that is not the most of what's bothering you. Fess up, Foxy."

"I..." The vulpine tilted his chin. "There's this...thing...it watches me. I c'n feel it, but...by th' time I look fer it, it's gone again. It doesn't do it when Aiko's here."

His nose twitched recalling the eyes he felt boring into his skull from behind him at almost all times when he was alone. It was the whole reason he'd been hanging upside down in the first place. If the whatever-it-was wanted to stare, it could watch his tails for a while.

Aizen eyes cut a path around the room. "Is it here now?"

He pulled the fox closer protectively—he was rather paranoid at the moment, what with Gin being pregnant and his own mate having had that scare with the rattlesnake last year.

"N-no. Only when I'm…I'm...Ahlo…Ehlon…" The kitsune blinked a few times, and then promptly sneezed in the butterfly's face due to proximity to the gossamer wings. "Ah! Gomene!"

The brunette pulled a handkerchief out of seemingly nowhere and cleaned off his face, then disposed of it immediately and chuckled. "No harm done. I know you're sensitive to my dust. Still...I will put a moth watch on you to try and flush out this watcher of yours."

"If...If ya think I need it..."

The Jester bit his lip, ears still drooping. They probably would until his mate came home. The nature of the kitsune being one of physical contact, and the fickleness of being pregnant on top of that meant that only one sort of cuddle would do at the moment, just as he'd only Feed from one person right now.

"C'n I go back ta watchin' Momma Spider now?"

"Nope," Famine replied with uncommon cheerfulness, once more grabbing his cloud and pulling him behind as he went stalking off. "You and I are going out."

"G-goin' out? Where?"

Gin's eyes actually slit open a fraction—all the wider he'd let them go when he wasn't hunting or with Renji. He shifted his cloud so the Third was holding his hand instead. Being pulled along by some random amorphous part of himself felt too much like cheating to be comfortable at the moment.

"Cafe…Library…Somewhere we can scare the fuck out of the little humans from under a glamor and I can get some coffee to wash out all the sugar I just consumed." The frank tone in the butterfly's words silenced the fox for a while as they walked, steadily leaving the Shrine behind.

"Okay..." Gin replied when he regained his voice but he looked over his shoulder every so often, tails tucked up close. "I guess if we're goin' out-out I gotta make wit' th' female parts...th' kits wouldn't like it if I hid 'em now that they're showin' themselves."

He blinked a few times, making sure none of the humans were around. Not that he expected them to be, what with most of the Shrine still empty from the winter and the King, the Mage, Conquest and Death off visiting the King and the Mage's human family. Still, it wouldn't do to be scaring them needlessly, as he shifted his chest and hips to more accurately carry his baby weight according to the humans' definition of what was and what wasn't. As soon as the ripple of shape was finished, he glared at his-now-her new assets.

"M' tellin' ya, ev'ry time I manifest these damn things they git bigger..." She poked one, watching it jiggle under her yukata.

"Of course they do, they swell with pregnancy," Aizen replied. "It's one of those things human women bitch about constantly, especially since they often stay enlarged after the pregnancy ends." He continued holding her hand—neither Gin's mate nor his own would feel threatened by the action so he had nothing to feel guilty about the way he clung a little bit tighter than was strictly polite to the mostly slender female trailing behind him. "Now, any particular place you want to be while I make humans dance to my tune for your amusement?"

"Eh...uh...no, not really..." Her den-ing instinct was beginning to kick in, so being out where she could be seen was somewhat scary.

Elder kitsune suggested that it was a holdover from when they had become enlightened from foxes when Inari Okami, Goddess of Fertility and Rice, had created the First Kitsune to be Her child and servant. In any case, it meant that the now-female silver-haired figure was watching all around herself, clinging tightly to her almost-brother's hand.

"Was there sum'place ya wanted ta go specifically? Sin's pro'ly open."

"Sin is far too violent for your current state," the brunette replied with a sniff. "I...own a small shop. I have not visited it in many years."

"Y'do?" Again the kitsune blinked. "How come we've never gone there b'fore, So-so?"

Now she was keeping up a bit better, though being distracted by the butterfly did little to help her ignore the stares she was getting as they walked down the street from the Shrine.

The butterfly, under the glamour of a wealthy businessman, cast a fierce glare upon anyone who looked at her for longer than a few seconds—this was _not _a sideshow!

"It is a rather small little shop, selling only books and coffee and pastries. Such places ceased to be popular quite some time ago, and had I not possessed a great deal of funds in reserve, it would have gone under already. With the Court in such disarray, and before that, having only one Horseman doing the work of four, I have simply not had the time to frequent it as much I probably should have."

"Then..." She shifted closer, deliberately wrapping her arm around his to make it seem like they were in a different kind of relationship than they had, "ya sure it's still there if ya haven't been checkin' on it?"

"Yes." Aizen returned the gesture, rather pleased with himself. "Because I still supply the funding to run it monthly, and I am still paying the wages for a manager and three employees as well as expenses for the coffee and pastries, which I suspect no-one but the employees eat. Still, I do not mind…at least someone is enjoying them," he chuckled.

"I guess it's better'n nothin'..." The kitsune, under the guise of a human woman, was quiet for a short while. The she whimpered, "So-so...m'feet hurt..."

Without so much as a pause or hesitation, the fox-turned-female was scooped into the butterfly's deceptively thin arms and cradled bridal-style to accommodate her slightly rounded stomach. "We're nearly there, dear."

"Is there cinnamon an' pineapple?" She asked hopefully, leaning her head against his shoulder. The butterfly wasn't as muscular as Renji, but he wasn't scrawny. So he served as a passable pillow.

"If there isn't, I can certainly get some," the brunette promised gently as he toed open a dark green door with the words 'Butterfly's Books and Café', slightly worn, but still bright gold on the window. A small bell rang, and a teenager who'd been dozing behind the counter came to attention with a crack of joints that made the butterfly wince.

"Welcome, sir! Seating is right here near the front and there are more private tables to the left," the young man said, figuring easily they needed a place to sit for the pregnant one.

Famine smiled, pleased by the quick reply. "I know. I own this place. Nevertheless, thank you," he replied in soft, cultured tones as he seated Gin on a comfortable couch.

The kitsune peered around at the quaint shop. Coffee in several flavors, old books, and yes! Cinnamon and pineapple, assaulted her nose. Her mouth watered as she spied the fruit muffin nestled among the chocolate and other candy favored ones. She didn't dare ask for it though. She didn't want special treatment just because the owner was her nakama...but that muffin...she had to have that muffin!

The teen looked like he didn't know quite what to do with himself. The owner, who was little more than a rumored mystery that never showed his face, was in the store, what was he supposed to do with that?! He went for the default: how he'd been trained to treat all customers that came through the door.

"Is there anything I can get you? Coffee, muffins, scones, a book, all of these?"

Aizen grinned. "All of those. Straight black coffee for me and a chocolate chip scone, and whatever is popular this week for the book. Gin, what would you like?"

"Tha'un!" She pointed to the one tickling her nose, and her glamour slipped only so much that the butterfly could see her tails wagging.

The Third's grin softened, "And the cinnamon-pineapple muffin with a large glass of milk for my sister."

The teenaged clerk also smiled, and hurried to fill their order, bringing a book for Gin as well, though she hadn't asked for one. As soon as the plate was in front of her, the kitsune dove into the muffin like it was last one on Earth. She actually moaned quietly when she took the first bite, and both Aizen and the clerk watched fondly. There wasn't anything quite as adorable as watching an expectant mother indulge her cravings. After a few moments the brunette and the teenager turned to their respective tasks, letting the shop fall into a pleasant silence for a while.

As Famine reached the end of his scone, the clerk approached the pair again, "Mr. Butterfly Sir, since you're here, did you want to go over the inventory and stuff? I know you're probably relaxing but my manager will want to know tomorrow if you do go over it before you leave."

With a small sigh, the older brunette stood, "I suppose it can't be helped. Will you be alright here by yourself for a short time, Gin?"

"Mmph?" The fox looked up and blinked, crumbs dotting her mouth and cheeks puffed out with her treat. She smiled as best she could and nodded.

Another fond smile at his brother-son, and the butterfly made a motion with his hand for the clerk to precede him into the back room. As soon as they were gone, however, the vulpine froze, mouth still full of muffin, but chills running down her spine from ears to tail tips. She swallowed harshly, clearing her mouth as quickly as possible. Then she called into the quiet of the store that had previously been so welcoming, but now hung over her like a foreboding thunderhead.

"Wh-what do ya want wit' me?" Her voice fell in the oppressive silence, going no further than her own ears.

But something answered anyway. In the shadows of a bookshelf across the shop from her, glaring eyes that glowed faintly red appeared. The soft hiss of a snake accompanied the narrowing of those eyes, and the floorboards creaked, as though under the weight of something easily the size of a large pony. There was a slithering, dry sound, and Gin's eyes slit open as wide as she allowed them to in a place where humans could fall under her spell. The sensation of bindings around her ankles and wrists appeared, making her tense and try to pull away from a bond that wasn't actually there. Then she felt the sliding of cool metal against the skin of her neck and she screamed. The glass, half full of milk, slipped from her fingers to shatter on the floor, and her voice pierced through the aura of evil permeating the store.

Aizen Flitted to her side in an instant, drawing her gaze immediately to his own, "Gin?! Are you ok?! What happened?"

"Th'…th'…" She shivered, her glamour flickering with distress. Her eyes flicked around the room but the whatever-it-was in the shadows was gone, taking its nightmares with it. She rubbed a hand across her collar bones, where the phantom metal had pressed against her skin. "It…So…c'n we go home now?" She pleaded.

"Hai, Gin. Right now." The brunette took her in his arms and held her close, trying in vain to soothe her tremors. He strode toward the door, but glanced over his shoulder at the clerk, who was already cleaning up the ruined glass. "Let your manager know that he is doing an excellent job, Shishigawara-kun, and I'll return in the next couple of weeks to discuss possibly raising your salary for your excellent organizational skills. For now though, ja ne."

"Ah, hai! Ja ne, Mr. Butterfly Sir!" The teenager grinned, "I hope your sister feels better." The door jingled shut before his words reached the pair, but somehow the clerk knew that they heard him anyway.

On the Flit home, Gin dropped his glamour completely, returning to his natural form, and curled in on himself, shuddering. It was his deepest fear to be chained up. For eons, kitsune were captured and confined so that warlocks and monster hunters could harvest their tears, their teeth, their claws and most importantly their tails. All of these things held magical significance, but most of all their tails, as each one was a symbol of how long a kitsune had lived and how much power it had. So, all kits were born with an inherit abhorrence to most forms of bondage, and Gin was no different. Tears wracked his body.

"Fuckin' hormones…makin' me cry over that!" He sniffled, clutching Aizen's shirt where the icy drops formed frost on the cloth.

At that moment they were entering the East building and Renji was already in their bedroom, having been summoned by his mate's distressed call almost as instantaneously as if the King himself had Called for him. Though he could tell by the way the Third held him that the fox was alright, he couldn't help asking, "Cry over what, Koi?"

"He was quite frightened by something that invaded my—" The butterfly began to explain but was cut off as Gin launched himself in a sniffling, soggy ball at his mate.

"Not that! I LOST M' DRINK!" He wailed, forcing the tiger back onto their bed.

"You spilled it?" Renji asked, an eyebrow trying to crawl into his hair line. At his lover's nod, he looked to Famine, though the question was directed at the kitsune, "Well, what was it?"

The butterfly gave the silver-haired male a chance to answer but when it appeared that all the vulpine man was going to do was cry while his mate rubbed his back, the brunette supplied, "He was drinking milk, War."


	13. All's Fair In: Chapter 3

**A/N: **Konnichiwa, minna! Thanks so much for the reviews and faves and follows this week. Your love keeps us writing. Enjoy! Ja ne!

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"C'mon, Foxy, come an' get me!" Conquest taunted, darting away with a grin.

The silver-haired kitsune growled with almost annoyance and took off after the blue-haired menace. "Git back here, ya over-grown kitty cat!"

Grimmjow stuck his tongue out in a very similar motion to that of his mate. Using his long flexible black and white tail as a lure, the panther sped across and around the courtyard on all fours, not quite Flitting but still faster than the Jester could keep up, much to his irritation. After a very short while, too short for his liking, Gin had to stop running, out of breath and rubbing his side.

Beltane was too close to summer for the thick-coated vulpine under the best of conditions, and being half-way through his pregnancy did not aid him, especially in the game Conquest was currently trying to play. His ears and tails drooped, his tongue hung out of his mouth and he rubbed a hand over the curve of his belly, now large enough that he couldn't wear most of his yukata or hakama anymore. So, on top of being weighed down by three kits that added their own body heat, the only way he could cover himself was with his natural thick, double-coated pelt of fur that was specifically designed for cold weather. Needless to say, the poor kitsune was well over-warm.

It was precisely for that reason that the panther inadvertently dashed away too far and didn't notice his game-partner missing right away. Which gave the large figure in the shadows on the lee side of the East building the opportunity to whisper, in its native tongue, all the horrible things it would do to the kits once they were born. Of course, the kitsune couldn't understand this, but in his swimming vision the same burning eyes that had tormented his nightmares since the encounter at the bookstore appeared to have multiplied by at least three, giving the appearance of a six-eyed beast prowling in the darkness. Needless to say it terrified him.

Gin took several steps away from the sight, but the combination of his condition, the heat and the aura with which the vaguely baboon-shaped beast flooded the area, created the perfect recipe for a fainting spell. The Jester never even felt the stones of the courtyard when his knees gave out and he collapsed into a heap of silver fur.

The next thing he was aware of were cool hands brushing his bangs out of his face, and water being dribbled onto his lips. He licked them unconsciously and caught the tail end of a conversation that had obviously been going on for a while.

"…don't care what you thought, you lost sight of him and look what happened!" The speaker was obviously smaller than their target, because the sound of sucking teeth was further away than the words. "Are you listening to me? Grimmjow!" Ah, Ulquiorra then.

Gin expected to hear some scathing remark from the blue-haired panther, but when none came he cracked an eye just far enough to see that Conquest was leaning against the wall, staring out into space, arms crossed over his chest, and his tail flicking in irritation. Death was attempting to get him to feel something about having almost left the Jester in the heat to die. That in itself was irony, considering how apathetic Death was always assumed to be. It just went to show that human interpretations of the Court were just as wrong about the bat as they had been about the panther when they'd incorrectly called him Pestilence, instead of Conquest.

Ulquiorra called the First's name two more times before the blue-haired feline finally glared at him. "Fine! I get it ok. C'n I go now?" He was surly.

"Yeah, when you explain to me why I was standing here calling your name and you didn't even so much as look up." Being ignored was the biggest of the bat's pet-peeves.

For a second it appeared like it was going to happen again, but eventually the panther just rolled his eyes. "I jus' didn' feel like answerin' ya."

Even to Gin's still foggy brain that sounded like a lie, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly why that was important at the moment, and concentrating on it was impossible because right then the rest noticed he was awake. Immediately he was surrounded by his nakama, all talking at once. Then silence reigned and the door, to what he determined to be the library from the way the others hovered over him, flew open with a bang.

"What happened this time!?" Renji roared, stalking over to him with a pronounced limp and several gashes along the bicep on his blind side.

The kitsune smiled a bit, sitting up slowly so he could cradle the head of crimson hair that was suddenly in lap, purring and nuzzling his baby bump. "Mah, I jus' over did it out in th' sunshine, Aiko."

"That thing was back wasn't it?" War growled. "I c'n smell it on ya." The crimson orb of his blind eye turned up to glare meaningfully at the rest of the court. "What part of he can't be left alone, is nobody understandin'? Do I hafta bring Ichigo inta this? I thought we was all agreed 'bout it. I don't care if all the thing does is watch him. I can't stand th' idea of that whatever-it-is havin' the opportunity ta hurt him."

"Don't bug King wit' it. It was an accident. Blue didn't mean ta leave him behind. We're just not used ta…um…" The albino mage seemed to realize how dangerous the rest of his sentence was becoming.

Ulquiorra save his mate, "Indeed, Ichigo has enough on his plate between his lessons and working with the caretakers on that project of his in the chapel that's connected to the kitchen." He stepped forward, "I take full responsibility for Grimmjow's," The panther didn't even flinch at the cold tone Death used, "negligence this afternoon. Shiro and I were attempting to re-animate the coffeepot without using so much caffeine. It was tricky and required all of our attention. Gin-san, please forgive us for not coming to you sooner."

"Oh it's not all that bad…" The kitsune tried to make light of the situation, only to received his mate's full-on stare. "Yer here now, so what's it matter?"

"Koi, I can't keep runnin' back an' forth 'tween here an' th' Amazon. In th' time it takes me ta get here an' back my whole plan can be destroyed. I wanna be here wit' ya but I gotta catch up on stuff now if I wanna have time wit' you an' the kits later." War's words were accompanied by another nuzzle to his belly, and a small, enticing purr.

"Maybe Death and Shiro can make up for their part in today's fiasco by helping to pinpoint exactly what kind of beast we're looking for. "Aizen entered the conversation for the first time. He had been the one dripping cool water on Gin's lips just as the fox had returned to consciousness.

"That's a good point, Aiko. If we're holed up here in the library that thing can't get to me, and I'll feel like I'm actually doing something instead of just sitting around in our room with a couple of priests." Gin smiled reassuringly and Renji grunted.

"Fine." He didn't want to leave his mate again, but there was no helping it. So, the redhead cuddled him closer for a moment or two. "Be good, Koi." He kissed the fox and Flitted away, presumably back to the Amazon.

"I am going to attend to Ichigo." The implication in the butterfly's words was that he was going to try and get a peek at the big project the King refused to allow the rest of the Court to see.

When he and his brother had returned from visiting their father, the orangette had holed himself up with a bevy of priests, architects and designers inside the old chapel. They saw him every so often as he needed to leave the building to eat and sleep, but otherwise the King was unavailable until further notice. Not even Conquest knew what was happening, and he slept with him.

So, the Horsemen's patience about the project was becoming thinner and thinner, which meant any and every excuse to attempt to get into the converted chapel had been used and now they barely even bothered trying to hide their true motives anymore. Everyone around the room nodded, but the butterfly paused on his way out the door.

"Grimmjow, why don't you come with me?" The panther gave no response, which made the brunette frown, and call out again, "Grimmjow? Come with me." Again there was no response. Placing a hand on Conquest's shoulder, Famine shook it lightly, "Grimmjow!"

"What?" The blue-haired male blinked, frowning.

"Come with me." Aizen did not like repeating himself, and his own brows drew closer together, though more in concern than irritation. Could the First be losing himself?

The blunette grumbled, "Fine." And preceded the butterfly out of the library, leaving Gin with the two palest members of the Court.

The bat and the albino exchanged a worried glance that Gin caught, but neither of them said anything out loud for fear that if they gave name to the issue, it would become worse. Magic was sarcastic that way.

"So what d'ya think it could be, Qio?" The kitsune broke the silence, "And why's it watchin' me?"

Death pursed his lips and turned to the book he'd obviously been reading before yelling at Grimmjow. "According to Merlin's studies of shadow-walkers, it could be anything from a dying boggle to a troll. I can only assume that because all it does is watch it is unable to actually enter the Court."

"Wait…" Shiro interrupted, "But it's here in th' Shrine, hangin' 'round on th' edges, how is that not enterin' th' Court?"

Ulquiorra looked up at his mate as though his next sentence was obvious, "Shii-koi, it's called a 'court' yard for a reason."

The Mage's eyes went wide in understanding and the Jester giggled at the single syllable reply. "Oh."

"But why's it watchin' _me_," Gin repeated himself with more emphasis on the declaration of himself, "I'm not anythin' special really…not like you two."

His ears drooped at the last part. He looked up a bit surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Death smiled down at him, a small expression but obvious by the light in his emerald eyes.

"You are the Jester, Gin. You are just an important as the rest of us. Without you, the King could get himself all wrapped up in the little details. Things are bound to be difficult while we all adjust to being part of the Court again after being absent for so long."

"Yeah," Shiro snorted from across the room, where he was looking at a different book. "Ya should see him when he's tryin' ta remember where he put his crystals."

The bat flushed, "It is not as though I have had access to my personal chambers in the last thousand or so years, Shii-koi."

The kitsune giggled, missing the wink the albino gave his mate.

Over the next several hours, the pale duo orbited around the fox, as he was unduly informed that he was to remain where he was on the couch without lifting a finger. If he needed anything it would be brought for him. When he complained at one point the answer he received in duplicate was, "An' risk windin' up on War's bad side cuz somethin' happened to ya?! Are ya crazy?"

So, for the rest of the day, whenever one of the two found an interesting bit of reference material they brought it over to where the fox was beginning to have himself a nest of books and papers. They must have cross-referenced every shadow-walker with every red-eyed demon and every empath with anything that could warp perceptions. By the time the sun was setting and they needed to use the lights, Gin was frustrated, Shiro was exhausted, and Ulquiorra's eyebrow was twitching unconsciously.

"Is there anythin' else ya c'n think of, Foxy?" The Mage had an arm flung over his face, as he slumped against the side of the couch on the floor. His lap was covered in notes and sketches, and a giant tome of mental manipulators was open between his knees.

The kitsune yawned, peering over the arm to look at the book. "Well…it's like my biggest fears come ta life when it's there." He rubbed a hand down his side, all the staying in one place was making him uncomfortable. "Like…I'm living my nightmares."

"That's it!" Death exclaimed from the table closest to them, and making the other two jump.

"Fer th' love o'…" Shiro glared, "What's it?"

The bat's tail curled around to stroke the side of the Mage's face, even as the ebony haired smaller male didn't turn from what he was reading. "Nightmares. It's what we've been over-looking. It's…where is it…ah! Here…'The nue," he recited, "A dream-weaver, said to have the body of a tiger, the head of a baboon and the tail of a snake. They thrive especially well in Japan and Eastern China, enjoying the warm spring and mild winters, though they can be found across the globe in other cultures as…meh, the rest isn't that important, but it's a dream-weaver. That's why we couldn't find it among the other shadow-walkers." At that point he looked up to see equal confusion and concern on both of his companions' faces. "Not to worry, it can't harm you in your dreams, or rather it won't. Dreams are something precious to the nue. Because it is pestering you while you're awake, it can only mean that it is acting on orders, and has been bound to someone against its will. Since it only seems to show up when you are alone, we'll have simply have to make sure it doesn't have the opportunity until the kits are born and you have the ability to confront it. Ne?"

Shiro and Gin exchanged a look. "Uh…does he get like this often?" The fox asked.

"Ev'ry time he fig'res som'thin' out." The Mage nodded.

"Ah." The Jester nodded, deliberately letting his mouth curl into a smile.

The bat glared, but there wasn't any heat behind the expression. "Glad to see you are at least in good humor, Gin-san." He dead-panned.

The silver-haired man wailed in mock tears that had the albino holding his ribs laughing, "Mah! Shiro-kun…Qio-kun's bein' so formal!"

"Well, aren't ya all havin' a good time." The rumble from the doorway brought everyone's attention.

It was late enough that none of the three had noticed the lanterns outside being lit, so the tiger was framed in flame where he stood watching them. It flickered in his eyes, and for a moment neither the bat nor the Mage quite knew whether War was entertained by their antics, or irritated. Gin, on the other hand immediately shifted away from the other two, pouncing his mate with wild abandon.

"Yer home!" As though he hadn't just seen the vibrant redhead a few hours ago, but that was the way of canines.

"Yeah, and I'm gonna be home fer a bit. The idjits I was helpin' took off without me this afternoon an' got themselves killed. So, the conflict's over fer now. It won't stay that way cuz they were rebellin' against th' gov'rnment but fer now at least I c'n be here, with you." The Second nuzzled his mate, a hand running down to palm their growing kits.

Gin purred, burying his nose in his favorite place below Renji's ear. It was warm, and fuzzy, and smelled like home, so it had his tails going a mile a minute until the tiger jumped back staring at him with a mixture of concern and excitement on his face. The fox looked down to where the large, heavily scarred hand was still resting against his bump, and after a moment smiled broadly.

"Oh~! Yeah," He giggled, "They started doin' that t'day."

Shiro was on his feet in an instant, "Ya mean they were kickin' an' ya didn't tell us!"

Renji didn't think his lover's smile could get more devious, but it did as the vulpine turned his head towards the albino. "Mah…a fox's gotta have his secrets, ne?"

"Let it go, Shii-koi. You won't win." Ulquiorra wrapped his mate in his wings at that point with another of his small smiles, and the Mage rested his weight against the bat with a defeated huff.

Then the Jester was pulling his other half out of the library, intent on enjoying the time they had together to the fullest for as long as he was capable of doing so…and being a kitsune…the others figured they wouldn't see much of War while he was on vacation this time.

As such, none of the Court noticed the growling nue outside the common building, watching from the shadows again. Her last order had been to follow War and try to exploit any weakness he could find. With the Horseman away from Japan most of the time, Saru had thought he'd have to go jumping all over the world with the tiger, but with the development of the kitsune as the Second's mate, he didn't have to. He could upset the pair, and the rest of the Court he'd discovered, just by playing with the energies around the expectant fox. He was sure the warlock would have been pleased with his results, or at least that was what he told himself every time he let the snake speak to him. He no longer knew where she was in the world, thanks to the King's Punishment, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He'd learned the hard way many decades ago not to cross her. He could still see the way the kitsune woman braced had herself when she realized that she wouldn't be able to avoid being hit if she wanted to save her cub. The memory made him shudder, and he stepped through the Veil to watch the Horsemen's dreams.


	14. All's Fair In: Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry, minna! I didn't mean to skip a week. I've been having some health issues. Random out of nowhere pain that's only eased by heavy painkillers that put me to sleep the first couple of times I take them. Hopefully things are on the mend now. Silva and I are working on some new stuff. Though I don't know if you Bleach folks will like it. It's all One Piece. Anyways, don't fret. We haven't abandoned Bleach, just taking a detour through pirates for the time being. Warning for smut towards the end, but then if you've been following along so far, you already know what kitsunes are like. lol Enjoy, ja ne!

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Pillows and blankets flew across the room, one of them smacked the previously sleeping, red-haired tiger in the face. He sat bolt upright blearily, blinking at the cushion that now rested in his lap. "Wh-what?!"

His mate stormed across their bedroom to the just-barely-bigger-than-a-closet down the hall, trailing several blankets and at least three pillows. In his wake, the kitsune left a chaotic assortment of other bedding materials strewn about the floor where they'd been pulled out of the linen closet. Renji scratched his head and frowned a bit.

"Gin…love…" He made his way to the doorway of the not-closet. "Th' priestesses take a lotta pride in makin' sure those blankets 're clean and folded nice fer us, y'know."

"So? Nesting. Doesn't matter."

The fox grumbled, curling over his belly to stretch another blanket across a gap in the already mounded pile of soft materials. He paused, tilting his head to observe his work, then growled loudly and started throwing things about the tiny room again. It was all piled in the middle of the floor, but on top of several layers of futon mattresses. Over the last few days, the silver-haired male had taken to snatching even the King's blanket. Fortunately they were approaching Midsummer, so it wasn't like the materials were needed, but this was getting ridiculous to the tiger's way of thinking.

Renji took a step into the room to take a hold of the last pillow in the kitsune's hands only to be growled at. He frowned, "Look, I'm not sayin' ya should stop completely, but at least come cuddle fer a bit? I gotta get goin' at the end of the week."

"Still?" Gin pouted. "It's always work, work, work wit' you! All ya ever do anymore is work! I never git ta see ya, and when ya are home, ya never want me ta do anythin' for ya. All ya wanna do is sleep an' cuddle."

It probably wouldn't help him, but the redhead couldn't avoid adding, "And sex. I let ya Feed from me as often as ya want."

All he got was an aggravated growl-shout, and a pillow shoved in his face as the fecund kitsune stormed past him. He was left blinking, rather lost. What had he said this time? Two weeks ago the vulpine had been all sunshine and smiles, with cheerful responses to everyone, even that blasted nue that kept hanging around at the edges of everyone's senses. Now though, since he started nesting, he was surly, uncomfortable and downright cold to all who crossed his path, and War couldn't help feeling like it was all his fault somehow.

He stumbled, still half-asleep, out of the East building to the kitchen. Slumping into a seat, he didn't even notice he was still clutching the second pillow to hit him until he had to let go of it to grasp the cup of coffee the appliance set in front of him. He smiled at the little formerly-inanimate object gratefully, downing half of the cup in one go. He shuddered at the bitter taste, but it woke him up, which was the point.

"P'rfec'…" Came a mumbled voice from the doorway.

Looking up the redhead saw Conquest holding his head, squinting against the lights. His turquoise and jade ears lay out flat to either side, and his tail hung limply almost dragging on the floor. Even his yukata looked tired as it draped across his shoulders, hanging open as though it didn't even have the energy to keep itself closed in spite of the knot in the sash.

"Ya look like shit, Grimm." Renji frowned.

"Really? I hadn't not'ced." The panther slurred, sliding into the chair opposite the tiger. "C'n I haff that?" He pointed at the pillow.

"Uh…" The redhead looked at it, then at the blunette and handed it over, "Sure, I guess…s'long as Gin don't want it back." As the other feline exhaled slowly, sinking into the soft cradle, using the table to hold himself up, Renji asked, "So, what's wit' you?"

"Dunno," Conquest shrugged, "M'head's poundin'. How come yer in here? Ain't ya us'ally holed up wit' yer fox 'til dinner these days?"

"Trust me, I wanna be, but he's all…" War made an ineffectual gesture with his hand, taking another drink of his coffee. "He's nestin' an' I try ta help but he don't want me 'round, I swear."

The panther snorted, "I doubt tha'."

"No, really, ev'ry time I try ta get him ta spend some time wit' me, he just growls at me. I'm a bit lost. Gimme a horde o' barbarians tryin' ta overthrow their neighbors fer th' rights ta th' river they already own an' I know 'xactly what ta do ta sort it out with minimal impact on th' world. But this…pregnancy thing…" The tiger shuddered, his ears pinning back.

"Well, I ain't much better at this whole relationship thing, but Ichi says that if he's feelin' ov'rwhelmed he gets snappy. So I'm s'posed ta…oh fuck…" Grimmjow frowned without opening his eyes, "I'm s'posed ta…uh…go ta him, 'nstead'a him comin' ta me, cuz he don't us'ally know he's ov'rwhelmed 'til I do."

Renji ran a hand through his hair, loose from its typical ponytail at the moment, "I could try I guess."

"S'worth a shot, 't least, righ'?" The panther mumbled, burying his face in the pillow. He didn't even notice the Second leave the room, as he whimpered softly to the appliances. "Now, if I could just make th' mem'ries stop."

Outside, in the warm summer sunshine, Gin was pacing back and forth under the sakura trees along the outer edge of the East building's garden. His mate just didn't get it, and why couldn't he just understand for once? It drove him crazy. He didn't want to stop everything he was doing to just lay around with his tiger all the time, but they were running out of time. War would be heading back out in a couple of days, and the King only knew when the redhead would be able to get back…what if he missed the birth!? Involuntarily the fox whimpered.

Then he stopped, glaring at a shadow not fifteen paces from him. "You!" He spat.

The nue stepped out into the sunshine, allowing himself to be seen for the first time in total. He was large, about the size of a small horse, and bulky, with powerful shoulders and corded arms that bulged with muscle. His heavy knuckles and the gentle bow to his back spoke of the immense time he'd spent plying his craft. His ruff was thick, and pearly white with broad purple stripes. His crimson eyes, set deep in the wizened baboon face, narrowed as the snake's head arched up over his shoulder to hiss at the kitsune.

Silver ears pinned back against his hair and baring his teeth, the expectant male stalked right up to the dream-weaver, "Look you! I have enough on m' plate at th' moment wi'out havin' ta worry 'bout lookin' over m' shoulder fer you ev'ry time I want some time ta think by m'self! So bugger th' hell off, an' I won't turn yer tail inta a squeaky toy!"

Gin had never heard a snake gulp before, but this one did, as its eyes went wide, "Sssaru…he meansss it…he'll…aah!"

The kitsune leaned in for emphasis, freezing electricity sparking in the otherwise almost-too-hot air, and snapped his vicious canine teeth at the reptilian appendage. It cowered, unable to handle direct confrontation the same way the baboon half could.

"Please stop intimidating my tail. I will leave. With your newfound ability to shake off my nightmares, I am useless here. Thus, the order I was given no longer applies." The baboon stepped slowly to the side.

Outright running would be as bad as standing his ground, as that would turn his vulnerable back to the angered vulpine, but simply backing away would be seen as the preamble to a chase, regardless whether he turned or not. As one magical beast to another, it simply wasn't intelligent to provoke either any further. Frozen, blue eyes followed the nue's movements until he stepped into a shadow and through the Veil.

The Jester didn't care where the dream-weaver went, as long as he wasn't being bothered any longer. So he gave a subtle shake, freeing slivers of ice that had developed in his fur as his power rose, and re-settled his hackles. The kits promptly informed him that they had not appreciated their momma stretching himself the way he had by squirming, pushing against his spine, ribs, and the back of his belly button all at the same time. It prompted him to bring a hand around to caress his belly, and put a smile to his face.

"This is why I usually watch from a distance, Gin-san."

Whipping around in confusion, the fox blinked a few times at the presence of the King sitting on the roof of the East building with a one leg drawn up, the other hanging off the edge, swinging gently. The orangette had a smile on his face where he rested his cheek against the palm of his hand, the elbow of which was in turn resting on his raised knee.

"The others seem to think you're powerless now that you're expecting. I think they've forgotten the kitsune you were before you became my Jester." Ichigo's voice was wistful, as though he wasn't exactly speaking of Gin at the moment. "It's why I've kept my distance. I know you can handle yourself. And others." He laughed.

"Uh…thanks, Denka?" The vulpine was still a bit shocked. He hadn't even known that the King was concerned, what with the way the monarch had been wrapped up in his project with the priests.

The orangette waved at him, and hopped down to the ground, nimbly. "Ichigo, if you could. I hate all that title and worship nonsense the priests pile on me."

"But yer th' King." Gin insisted, a small frown creasing his brow.

The younger male gave a joyless laugh. "Yeah. I am. So? Doesn't that mean my desire is law?"

The kitsune seemed to pick up on something the King didn't say as his smile returned in full force, and he teased. "Hai. Ichi-kun."

"Much better." Ichigo smiled again. "Now, how about we celebrate your victory over the pest with a sneak peek at what I've been working on?" The kitsune's tails wagged and the King led them to the chapel.

Renji nodded to himself, fists on his hips, surveying the not-closet. He'd brought their own bedding from their actual bed in to be used on top of what his mate had already arranged. He'd moved two of the futons to line the back walls, then piled a row of pillows in the corner where the floor met the wall so there was support for one's lower back. The rest he used to create a barrier between the door and the center of the room with space just wide enough for someone to kneel against the wall nearest the hallway. Several blankets were hung on the outside wall to block drafts, and the rest were bunched haphazardly around the interior of the nest. Nodding again he tried to swallow the ball of nerves that had settled in his stomach.

Would Gin like it? Would he be upset that the tiger had messed with his nest? Would he even say anything or would he just push War out of the room so he could tear everything down and start over? Everyone knew the Second was about conflict, but did he have the negotiating skills to handle making peace with his emotional mate? He wasn't entirely sure himself, but if nothing else this should prove that he cared and wanted to do more than just cuddle, right?

"What have ya done?"

The redhead couldn't stop the bottle brush of his tail as his mate blinked at him from the doorway. He was standing in the middle of the nest, and under the head-tilted ice blue neutral gaze leveled at him, he shifted a little nervously.

"Is it okay?" He asked, unconsciously curling in on himself.

Gin blinked, "It's…"

Horrible? Awful? Dreadful? Renji could hear the adjectives echoing through his skull, and his heart sped up even more than it already was.

"It's…" The kitsune tilted his head to the other side.

Ugly? Hideous? Violated?

"It's…" Another blink.

By now, the tiger had his tail in his hands, ears folded down into his hair, and looking off to the side. He couldn't stand to see the expression on his mate's face when the fox finally decided his attempt was disgusting and worthless.

Then out of nowhere he had an armful of pregnant Jester, and was landing on his, often bruised, tail in the blankets. He dared to smile a bit, and was kissed soundly. When the usually smaller male let him up for air, he out-right grinned.

"Ya like it then." He stated.

"Like it? Aiko, it's perfect! How'd ya know what I wanted?" Gin was all over him, purring and nuzzling and tails wagging.

The tiger shrugged, "I dunno. I just did what I know ya like ta do ta th' bed."

"Oh, Tora!" The kitsune was kissing him again, and crying.

Then War felt his mate's hands pulling at the belt of his kosode, pushing the fabric away and heat began to pool in his stomach through the fox's kisses. An amazing effect because the more aroused the Jester got the colder the air became around them, but his touches and kisses were like an accelerant to the perpetual fires of conflict that burned at the core of the Second's being. It never failed to immediately bring him to hardness and feeling the way Gin's belly brushed against his own, fur on skin, soft-yet-firm precious cargo pressing into the gently dipped plane of corded muscles, had him bucking gently to capture more _touch_ between them.

He rolled them over in the blankets, shedding his hakama while he was at it, so he could worship the amazing creature that was his mate. Gin squirmed as the tiger ran his hands down the fox's sides, and cantered his mouth across the junction of neck and shoulder, all around the Mating Mark. A moan that could have come from either of them was absorbed by the blankets and cushioning when Renji pressed his index finger up, under his lover's tails and into his entrance, already slick in preparation of being used for birth in the next couple of months.

Gin ground his hips against the sensation, eyes closed tightly, and his member beginning to leak freely. The redhead leaned back to stroke it, spreading the precome around the glans and caressing the knot that usually was kept at bay by the kitsune being in control of the entire situation. In no time it seemed War had added his other fingers, and his silver-haired lover was gripping the cushions beneath them, a mewling mess of arousal and need.

"Talk ta me, foxy boy." Renji kissed up the sensitive swell of their kits. "Tell me who loves ya." He removed his hand to line himself up with the twitching tunnel.

"Nnyah! Rrrenjiii~!" The Jester purr-moaned, pressing his sphincter against the flared and barbed glans his mate presented for him.

"That'sss rrright." The tiger entered him, with slow deliberate strength, filling him completely with a guttural noise of pleasure that rumbled above his normally slender lover in all the right ways.

The rhythm was almost as gentle as the first time they'd made love, back when War had just Awakened, and Gin was literally fucking the human out of him. But this was more intense, as their hips met, individuality lost to the moment, and power between the two built gently, swirling in the corners of the room. This was about connection, and though it never failed to make Renji's tattoos glow, this sex was less about the magic and more about their souls. They were meant to be, and it was obvious in the way the larger of the two caressed and stroked the smaller as he was impaled on the tiger's cock.

"Gin-koi…Mmm gonna…come wit' me?" He asked pressing his cheek against the fox's, his words whispered into one of those large, silver-furred, conical ears.

Apparently that was all the kitsune needed between the hand on his manhood already and the way he was submerged in War's own arousal, because the fox gave a sharp bark-like noise, spurts of blue-white cream erupting across both of their stomachs. His tunnel tightened around the invading length, milking the feline's climax from him as surely as if he'd used his mouth instead.

"AH!" Renji cried out, and the glow from his tattoos was sucked through his cock.

Gin twitched a second time, the kind of false-climax he normally associated with Feeding, but he wasn't the one drawing on his mate's magic. Both looked blearily at the Jester's rounded belly and at the same time placed a hand on it. The kits had just initiated their first Feeding.

The kitsune's pride couldn't have been more obvious as his lover held him close, pulling out and cuddling happily with a deep, throbbing purr. The redhead's strong hand ran across the swell of their kits in a steady, if gentle, rhythm that matched the content curl of the tip of his tail.

After a few minutes of incredibly comfortable silence, War asked, "So…ya really like it?"

"Baka!" The sleepy fox snorted. "Of course I do! I said it's perfect, di'n't I?"

"...Then I got un'more presen' fer ya," the tiger replied quietly, one finger crooking.

A flicker of red darted over to his kosode, which rustled as the pocket was turned inside out, and a small black, velvet box flew over to be caught in his hand. He held it carefully in his palm and flipped the lid open with his thumb to display the ring inside.

"I been carryin' it 'round wit' me since New Year's lookin' fer th' right time ta give it ta ya." He admitted with a small blush.

The vulpine tilted his head and blinked at it. "But...we're already mated. Ya Marked me. What's th' ring for?"

"Humans don' recognize no matin' Marks," War replied, a blush staining his climax-reddened cheeks. "An'...an' I wan' every'un ta know yer taken. Tha' yer no' vulnerable ta sleazebags," his lip curled, "an' if any'un goes tryin'a hit 'r touch on ya, there _will_ be retaliation." His voice was stronger by the end, a low growl underlining that there would be some very serious consequences indeed. "I couldn' help wit' th' damn nue, but I c'n at least keep ya from bein' bugged by humans this way."

"Aww...Aiko!" Still fairly high from his climax, Gin nuzzled under Renji's chin. "O' course, I'll wear it. I knew ya liked paradin' me 'round."

He snatched the ring from the box and put it on, then just like the human women did with their shineys, he held out his arm to admire it, the way it glittered in the lamp light. With a smile the redhead reached out and moved the ring from where the kitsune had donned it to the correct finger. The Jester just shrugged, grinning with a small blush.

Renji purred, nestling his head in the curve of his lover's shoulder to also admire his mate's new trinket. His...husband. Yes. He felt fully justified in calling him that now. He had a ring and everything. Abruptly, his own ring finger felt oddly bare, but he dismissed it. Gin didn't even really know any human traditions, let alone follow them. He'd get over this weird naked feeling.


	15. All's Fair In: Chapter 5

**A/N:** Well, minna, you're in luck! The same issue that caused me to miss a week of updating is making me post this chapter early. I'm going in for surgery tomorrow to have my gallbladder removed, and I don't know if I'll be up to posting on Saturday. If all goes well I'll be home, I just don't know what my energy level is going to be. So, here you go! The last chapter of Part 2. Part 3 starts next week. Warning, FLUFF!

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The end of the week came much faster than anyone wanted, and in spite of sleeping better than he had in months, Gin couldn't shake the foreboding cloud hanging over his head. Literally. In reflection of his anxiousness over Renji going back to work, his mist cloud had taken to being a dark, ugly summer-storm grey-green, hovering just over the kitsune's head. Spending most of his time the last several days in his nest with his mate, no one had really noticed it, but the morning of the day War had to leave, the pair were in the kitchen, and the little cloud was quietly raining on the floor. Since it had been doing so for the last hour, the oven had brought a bucket over to catch the water.

The redhead was stroking his mate's hair, trying to soothe him and get in as many cuddles and touches as he could before he had to go. He couldn't put it off—a new battle had just erupted on a new front, and this time he couldn't say 'fuck work' as he had been lately.

"I'll be back soon," he coaxed.

"B-but I'm so close...another month an' they could be here at any time...why d'ya hafta go personally? They were doin' just fine on their own b'fore ya Woke up." The kitsune grumbled, tucking his nose into his favorite spot.

Renji held him closer. "That's just it…they weren't doin' fine without me…they won't…er can't…stop. I hafta go personally 'cuz I'm th' only one that c'n make 'em _stop_. If there ain't no wars, I c'n stay home, but...an' I'm tryin' ta wrap shit up as quick as I can," he said softly, rubbing his belly lightly. "I'll be back...'fore month's end, I promise. I wanna be 'ere when ya kit."

"The end of the conflict may not be that simple, War." Ichigo's voice entered their conversation, as the King ducked through the plastic sheet hiding whatever it was he was doing in the former chapel. "I've had Famine and Conquest investigate the skirmish. I think you'd better go and do an assessment." His expression was solemn. "I don't want to disrupt your time together but this looks bad. I have an idea how to balance your time management problem, but I need an accurate reading of how fast it takes you to get there and back again. I'll wait here with Gin until you get back."

The Jester bit his lip. "Now?"

"Yes, it would be preferable." The orangette's eyebrows drew together in an apology.

Renji's shoulders slumped, but he unwound his arms from his fox and nodded. "Alright."

His wire wings flared, and between the long metal blades his magic strung in solid sheets, making them look like phoenix wings. His brought them down in a hard flap, and with the buzz of Demonic Flit, he was gone. It took nearly half an hour to get there and back, even at his top speed, and when he returned he leaned on the counter sweating, panting, and wheezing. Flit was an emergency technique, and not meant to be used for long distances nor extended periods, and even War's toughened, strong body didn't escape the effects of using it longer than it was meant to be utilized.

"That's what I was afraid of. There's no help for it. I'll be right back." The King left the kitchen in search of his own quarters.

Gin waddled over to his mate, "Are ya ok?" He scanned the redhead for signs of injury, physical or otherwise.

One of his wings, up near the secondary joint, was bent all out of shape, and he'd torn a few tendons and ligaments, plus was now suffering extreme muscle exhaustion, but other than that he was alright. Except...the flicker of his magic, extremely low, indicated he'd run into _something_.

"What happened!?" The kitsune ran his hands over the physical injuries, pulling from their Ley Line combined with his natural healing abilities, just like he had when the redhead had collapsed after that very first fight.

Renji sighed, relaxing into the healing as he always did, though he winced when the wing screeched upon being straightened out. "Jus' as I was arrivin' some crazy fucker blew hisself up," he admitted with a little hiss. "I kinna...got caught in th' blast."

The fox was about to translate his growling insults when the King returned, his own mate in tow. The blunette looked a bit worse for wear, dark shadows under his eyes but a determined cast to his chin that almost over-shadowed the way his frame looked tired.

"Alright. I have a solution but it's going to take some doing. Grimm will go with you tonight and between the two of you, I want you to warp the conflict so that Conquest can take your place when you need to be back here for Gin."

"I c'n do tha', but c'n he?" The Second pointed at the First, who was looking rather like he did after that three-day bender with no sleep and two pounds of coffee that one time during Finals Week.

The panther scrubbed under his eyes self-consciously. "M' fuckin' fine, Red," he grunted, irritated.

"He's been pushing himself." Ichigo frowned at his lover. "But he's cut his Flit time down to fifteen minutes there and back again. So, he can run for you if we need you here or if they need you there, without much disruption between the two places. So, short of giving him a Directive, I can't stop him from going."

Gin looked from one vibrant feline to the other, and though part of him purred, he felt the same way as his lover. "Are ya sure ya c'n handle it, Kitty? Ya look...eh..." His ears drooped and he bit his lip in worry.

"O' course," the blunette's voice was gentler as he spoke to the Jester, instinctively being kinder because the smaller male was pregnant, "I'm fuckin' Conquest. Nothin' I can't take."

Then he grinned and kissed his own mate, long and hard and forcefully. When he broke for air moments later, he looked visibly perked and restored, eyes sparkling.

"Mmm. See? Feelin' betta a'ready," he chuckled.

The orangette made a squeak and his eyes crossed for a minute after he was released. Then he let himself shiver and the corner of his mouth curled up in an expression the First liked to call 'kissed stupid'. "Ah...yeah...Heee."

The kitsune giggled. "Ok, I get it." He rolled his eyes and cuddled up to his own feline. "Big, strong, Kitty. But...don'tcha have stuff ta work out?" He turned his gaze upwards to peer at the redhead, "Especially if yer gonna hafta deal wi' idjit's like th' fucker who blew ya up. That is...if yer actually ok now."

"M'fine," the Second assured with a small kiss to the top of his husband's head, "ya fixed me up good 'n proper, darlin'. Me'n Conquest c'n get it all straightened," he grinned with a purr.

Grimmjow chuckled and nuzzled the King proudly. "Tha's m' man. Anyway, when we doin' this?"

"If yer leavin' t'night...fer a bit...I gotta talk ta Ichi-kun 'bout som'thin'." The kitsune tried not to sound either depressed, or like he was hiding something. He failed at both, but gave the felines a pointed look that meant 'go away.'

Both Horsemen weren't about to push the pregnant man. They gave each other a look, shuddered, and disappeared with a buzz to allow the two mates to talk privately. They went to the hot springs beneath the bathroom, since they were both sore and not even Grimmjow could hear anything in the kitchen over the bubbling and water, which he normally could if he wasn't blocking his extraordinary sense of hearing.

"What did you need, Gin?" Ichigo recovered himself with another shiver.

"What does one usually do when one gets somethin' like this?" The Jester held out his hand for the orangette to inspect his ring.

The King took the pale, vaguely canine hand in his own, bringing the almost white band closer. "Wow...Re-War gave this to you?" At Gin's nod, he continued, "Well, I would give him one too. Something that matched. But I wouldn't use gold for War. It might get damaged when he's out in the field."

"So, I shouldn't get him som'thin'?" The fox's ears drooped.

"No, no, I didn't say that. I mean, get him one that's made out of stronger stuff...like titanium." Ichigo covered Gin's hand with his own, and pulled him out of the kitchen towards the library. "C'mon, we'll go talk to Aizen about it. He'll know more than me."

When they entered the library, the Third was hovering near the ceiling. What he was doing up there, however, wasn't able to be seen because with a tiny ripple of dust an illusion completely covered it. Not that they could see the illusion from the floor anyway, as the ceiling was rather high. Still, he drifted down to meet them, smiling in that cordial way of his. That project was his private work. He refused to talk about it with anyone, not even Gin or Ulquiorra. So, the arrival of the King meant distraction was in order.

"Hello there, Gin, Ichigo. Do you venture here in search of knowledge?"

A little flutter of his wings in amused pale yellow let them know he was teasing a little. Since around the middle of the Jester's pregnancy, the only times the fox ever really sought him out was when he needed questions answered.

The kitsune stuck his tongue out, "Grrr."

"Yes, actually." Ichigo laughed, rolling his eyes at the habit everyone seemed to have picked up from his twin. He flat out denied that he did it more often than the albino. "Gin needs a present for Ren-War. Show him." The orangette nudged his companion, who promptly stuck his hand out so the butterfly could admire his new pretty-shiny.

Aizen's wings turned a brilliant sunshine yellow as he looked at it, and his grin was quite pleased as he took his hand in both of his, admiring it dutifully. "How wonderful! A wedding ring. What does his look like?"

"I...uh...he...um..." Gin sputtered and looked away, ears flushed and pinned back against his hair. He pulled his hand back and cuddled one of his tails.

"That's why we're here. He needs to get one, but I have no idea where to start and neither does he." The King supplied with a sympathetic smile.

"Oh. Oh! Well, that's easy," Aizen chuckled. "Any jewelry store can provide you with a wide selection, and the clerk can recommend certain rings based on what you tell him or her you want. I would ask why you didn't pick them out together, as many human couples do, but knowing War, he wanted it to be a surprise," he smiled softly. "Come, I know a very fine jeweler's that provides extremely sturdy objects for people just such as Renji."

"I c'n go...like this?" The expectant mother looked down at his belly and back up again, his blush getting deeper. He hadn't left the Shrine since that fiasco with the bookstore, and though he no longer had to worry about the nue bothering him, the idea of being out among humans was a little daunting.

Ichigo frowned for a moment, "Can't we cast a glamour on you, make you look female?"

The Jester bit his lip. "I suppose, but I c'n't do it m'self anymore...m' magic's all wrapped up in Feedin' th' kits 'til they're born now."

Aizen gave him a 'don't be stupid' look. "You're looking at the Master of Illusion, Gin. We both know a mere glamour is child's play for me."

A snap of his fingers and the desired image shimmered into place. Naturally, he couldn't do it like that _all _the time, but anywhere in the Shrine it was just that easy because his wing-dust covered absolutely everything and everyone, just by being circulated around because he lived there.

"It should disguise your voice as well."

To try it out, the silver-haired now-human woman, hummed, and spun to get a look at herself, "It'll do. S'not as good as mine, but at least I don't hafta work on th' voice."

Her nose twitched, however, as though she still had the fine, almost invisible whiskers the kitsune's natural form had. Really, she was playing down what the butterfly had done for her because she could still feel herself under the illusion, nothing was missing and everything was still reacting as it should. If she'd cast the shift herself, her tails, ears, whiskers and paws would have actually disappeared, leaving her to remember how to balance without those things on top of the extra weight of her belly.

"Good," the King grinned, and closed his eyes. A subtle shift rippled through the library and his appearance changed such that he was a duplicate of Renji's human form. "There. Now we can make sure it'll fit him before we buy it."

Gin giggled outright at the sound of Renji's voice speaking without an accent. "Ya sound so funny that way!"

"Should I try ta sound like 'im?" The now-redhead grinned, though to the butterfly and the fox it was obvious that they weren't looking at War, it was a pretty good facsimile.

"That'll help," Aizen responded with some amusement. "After all, if the clerk sees how...rough and tumble you are," he couldn't help snickering as he said it, "it will drive home the point that Renji is a fighter and needs something as tough as he is, with no overlarge gems that might catch on things."

"Alright, I'll do what I can." Ichigo tried.

"C'n." The ex-fox giggled again.

"What?"

"C'n. He drops th' middle o' it. An' 'wha' not 'what'."

The King rolled his eyes, or rather, visibly he rolled the eye he could 'see' out of, at the woman who was now supposedly his wife. He shook his head trying to sort it out and failed. "I'll do m' best. Better?"

"Much." The woman slipped her arm through his and leaned against him. "Now, be a big strong man an' help yer 'wifey' ta th' store ta buy ya a ring ta match mine."

She was loving every minute of the complicated mess that their outing had turned into. Complications meant fun and fun was something she'd had entirely too little of since becoming War's mate. So, she grinned, actually showing her teeth since she was in a glamour, and looked up expectantly at the now-much-taller King.

Aizen bit his lip hard to keep from laughing as he case his own glamor on himself. "Right this way, 'lovebirds'." He couldn't help letting out a wheeze of half-smothered laughter. Oh, this was going to be a fun outing indeed. "And you do need to carry him Ich-_Renji_. War carries Gin everywhere that the man doesn't float."

"Uh...Tha's it." Ordinarily Ichigo had no idea if he could carry the kitsune, but he knew one way to solve the issue before it became a problem. So, in his clearest voice, he said, "For the duration of this trip, from now until we return to this place, I wish to have the same strength as Renji."

As with all Directives, a ripple ran through reality and though there was no physical obvious change, when he bent to scoop the ex-fox up into his arms bridal style, both could feel that he indeed had the same strength War had. He blushed a little at the way the Jester nuzzled into his chest, but strode out the door of the library, leading the expedition to the jewelry store.

Shiro walked past and waved to them with a smile. "Glad ta see ya gettin' out an' about, Foxy."

"How'd ya know it was me?" The silver-haired woman asked.

"Red wouldn't dare carry anyone that wasn't ya right now." The Mage laughed.

Blushing furiously, Ichigo almost said something but a nudge to his chest made him look down, inadvertently, into Gin's own brand-new endowments. He sputtered a bit and almost tripped over his feet. "Whoa!"

The albino slapped his knee and held his ribs, laughing harder, "See? He gets all flustered at me jus' suggestin' it!"

"Too true, Shiro-kun, too true." The Jester sing-songed, grinning and waved. "Ja ne!"

"Hai, hai." Ichigo's twin moved off towards the hot springs, intent on getting a soak in before Ulquiorra woke up from the nap he was taking after a round of rather furious love-making with the albino.

When Shiro entered the subterranean cavern that housed the Shrine's hot spring the first thing he saw was Grimmjow relaxing, up to his chin in the comforting water, next…to…Renji!?

"Th' fuck?" The Mage stared at the two felines. "I swear I jus'...y'know what...I dun wanna know. I don'. I really, really don't."

Aizen smirked, hearing the commotion from the room at the back of the bath house. "Right this way."

He led the way to his preferred jeweler's; Aizen might have been a butterfly, but he had two loves he didn't like to talk about. His love for sugar—he _was _an insect after all—and his love for shiny things that rivaled even a magpie. He had a dragon-sized hoard of gold and jewels and rings and torques and cuffs and even specially fitted armors, including some for his wings and feelers, that he'd been building for countless centuries. If anyone asked, he would give it to the dragons if they were ever revived and to any nue whose treasure ran out...but nobody was ever going to find out.

Anyway, the long and the short of it was he knew the best jeweler in the city and said jeweler knew him, greeting him with a wide smile and a cheerful "Great to see you again, Mr. Aizen!"

"They know ya, So-so?" Gin asked blinking at all the pretties.

Ichigo-as-Renji set the fox-turned-woman down so she could inspect the cases closer. It was a fox's paradise in here with the light glinting off the collection of trinkets fit for a king, or at least a King's right hand cat. So much potential, how could she ever choose just one!?

"Mr. Aizen is one of our best customers, Ma'am," the clerk said. "What are you looking for, if I may ask? I might be of some assistance. Perhaps a necklace for the lovely lady? Or a bracelet as a token of your affections?"

Aizen had already moved to the 'exotic selections' counter, perusing the ear cuffs with delicate chains and platinum torques. He didn't have any of those...

"Oh, no, no. My husband here, silly thing that he is, has lost his 'wedding ring'." The Jester was playing up the 'innocent doe-eyed female' role, and the redhead beside her rolled his good eye.

"It ain't m' fault I gotta work wit' m' hands." He crossed his arms over his chest in what the King hoped was a fair approximation of his friend.

"Ah, and might I ask what kind of work Sir does? Something quite involved, such as woodcarving, or building, or as a mechanic, something where a ring might get caught quite often?" The inquiry was entirely professional, the clerk already moving to the ring counter.

"Eh, som'thin' like that...er, tha'." Gin gave him a look as Ichigo tripped over the assumed accent. Maybe he should have wished to sound like Renji too? He shrugged lightly, blushing at the disgruntled now-female.

But when the clerk looked up again, she was all smiles and batting eye-lashes. "Yeah, he's pretty involved in his job. Real hands-on. D'ya have anythin' that'd survive bein' hit wi' som'thin'? Like, oh...say, a sword? Er an axe?"

"Only in gauntlet-style cuffs, Ma'am," was the prompt response. This was a high-quality shop, unfazed by anything the customer might ask of them. "However, we do have some simple titanium rings that might stand up to most vigorous, high-force wear and tear if that is what you prefer. You may wish to also look at the armor selections Mr. Aizen is perusing," he nodded at the butterfly, who was ogling over a lovely torque that covered collarbone and neck all the way around, including the shoulders and over the back.

"Eh..." Gin was now out of his element. Ring? Or armor? The turned-female looked up at the man posing as her husband, but all the redhead could do was shrug. So, going on the principle that one can never be too vocal about one's affections, an old kitsune ideal. The silver-haired woman grinned. "Both."

The clerk smiled. "Wonderful. Let's select the ring first, as Mr. Aizen doesn't appear quite ready to move away from the armor just yet," he chuckled.

Aizen straightened up, a blush taking over his cheeks. So he liked armor...that didn't make him easily distracted! Or obsessive!

The ex-fox snickered as she bent to look at the display. Several caught her eye, but one in particular, a thick band inlaid with blackened tungsten in a sharp tribal flame pattern, jumped out at her. With glee, she pointed, "That one! It has ta be that one!"

The King dutifully held out his hand for the clerk to check the sizing as he felt the breezing of the Jester's hidden tails.

The clerk grinned when it was a perfect fit. "Lovely! Would Sir and Madam like to check over the armor now? We have many lovely styles and kinds, allowing for maximum mobility and strength. Everything from wrist cuffs to full-body armors."

"F-full-body? Could it...uh..." She blushed, fearing that she was giving herself away. Ichigo-as-Renji nodded, prompting her to continue, "Uh...he works in some real nasty type places, an' he's goin'...uh...overseas...t'night. So, if we find one...he c'n wear it now? Like right away?"

A light appeared in the shopkeeper's eyes, and his smile curled just a little too much, revealing sharp points on his eye-teeth, but in the blink of an eye the effect was gone, "Of course. We have the ability to properly fit all armors right here on the premises. Mr. Aizen has utilized the service a number of times and can vouch for our quality."

Gin looked to Aizen, then back at the clerk, trying to figure out how to make sure her mate had room for his demonic appendages while still maintaining the cover that they were only a fairly well-off human couple expecting their first child. She worried her lip, and decided to simply bite the bullet with another tried and true kitsune method of negotiation, lying.

"My husband has ta wear this costume, y'see, He's got wire wings, a tail, fake claws glued ta his fingers an' toes, horns that stick outta his head here," she gestured, "an' animatronic cat ears. They move up an' down, like this." She mimicked the motion of her own ears for emphasis. "Y'sure ya c'n have it ready now?"

The clerk smiled warmly, and briefly there was a flicker of something not quite...human to his appearance. Another flash of too-long teeth, unnaturally bright eyes, but just like the first time it was gone again so quick it could very well have been a trick of the light. "Positive, Ma'am. We make such adjustments for costumes frequently. Again, Mr. Aizen can attest how well we compensate for such things. We made him a lovely helmet a few years ago with particular hollow horn-like protrusions to accommodate false feelers he was wearing for a booth worker at a convention."

"Gaming convention," Aizen supplied. "I was working showing for the Killer Insectoid game."

"Ah yes. For a release show he needed armor to fit the feelers, as he had to appear both with and without armor for the performance," the clerk continued smoothly. "We can easily accommodate wings and ears."

"Thank ya so much! The metal has ta be flexible, has ta breathe, but able ta be insulated. He's gotta wear it all over th' world, an' when he goes ta places like Russia he wears a thickly furred body suit. So it's gotta go under th' armor." She wandered over, past Aizen, carefully looking over each display.

"That is quite a tall order. You may need specially adjusted metal," the man informed as he came from behind the counter, gliding over to the case. "Steel is inappropriate, as even spring steel is much too snappish, and gold too soft. Iron is too heavy, but perhaps bronze...but no, that is too weak. It may need to be adjusted titanium, or a titanium-steel aggregate."

Of course, 'adjusted' was a disguised term for 'magicked'. Something such as 'breathable metal' generally required a little magic infused into it to prevent the person inside from overheating. Magic might be mostly lost, but _some _could use it unconsciously, and did it to their advantage all the time.

"_Adjusted_?" The disguised kitsune raised an eyebrow. She didn't dare glance at the butterfly now, because if her suspicions were correct doing so would be to sign her death warrant. "In that case, I'll take this one, if ya c'n 'adjust' it now." She gestured to a full set, from head to foot, her tiger would be covered from attack.

"Wonderful." The man smiled again, unlocking the case. "If Sir would like to put the armor on, we can size it now. And Mr. Aizen, I noticed you were rather interested in the Egyptian torques...?"

"...Yes, the platinum one," Aizen gave in with a little sigh. He just couldn't resist.

"It flatters your complexion wonderfully," the employee replied as he handed it over.

Ichigo-as-Renji stepped over, and allowed the strange clerk to fit the armor to him. Holding perfectly still for the adjustments and sizing and other mundane aspects of fitting while Gin fussed over him, checking flexibility, pushing and pressing to check the strength, and finally seeming satisfied, nodding at the shopkeeper so the slender man could make his own 'adjustments'.

The man ran one finger up the side of each armor piece, a subtle shine encompassing it that seemed to shift, almost like opalescence, except...darker. Like the shine of oil atop of puddle of water. Once each piece had this 'adjustment', Ichigo-as-Renji felt noticeably cooler, as the armor was now breathable and flexible more than it had been.

"Feel free to test it further while I _adjust_ Mr. Aizen's torque," he invited as he went to the butterfly and fitted the metal back plate so it wouldn't hit his wings when it was fastened, putting a little bend in the specific spots where the metal met his primary wing joints.

As soon as the slender clerk was out of what Gin assumed was hearing range, he leaned into Ichigo and asked, "C'n ya mark it? Y'know color the metal?"

The King grinned, this time looking exactly like the red haired tiger. "I know exactly what you want, Gin."

Before the salesman came back, they removed the armor and packaged it, a subtle ripple going through reality at a murmured Directive that no one but the kitsune could hear.

The clerk smiled at them and rang everything up. It was a rather high total, and he asked if he should put it on Aizen's tab or if Gin would like to pay upfront.

"I think this'll cover it, ne?" The Jester pulled a bauble of blood red apparently out from between her breasts, though really it came from the center of his mist cloud. Kitsune stones were rare, precious, and only given away when the actions of the recipient warranted a vast sum of money. He was also testing the waters, because he was almost certain that the 'human' in front of them would know exactly what he was being offered.

The clerk's composure faltered for a second, crossed with a look of such extreme _want _it was nearly palpable before he composed himself again and cleared his throat. "I...that, Ma'am, I believe would be too much. And we both know it would be nearly impossible to divide such a...payment...as fairly between all of the crafters of your purchase as it should be."

One of the only reasons this 'human' was still around was his astonishing ability to suppress his darker, greedier side. He would've been found out long ago had his sense of honor and self-control been any less than it was.

"Believe me," She allowed her glamour to flicker ever so slightly, by blowing on her hand. "What yer givin' us...this ain't enough."

The clerk swallowed…hard. "...There still is no way to properly divide it between shop, jeweler, and blacksmith," he protested weakly. "Human coin would be easier to divvy up."

"Then I can solve that."

It was nearly time, and they still had to get back to the Shrine. So, Ichigo gave Gin a look that clearly stated, 'if you're wrong and I fuck up this guy's life, you're in deep trouble.' The kitsune nodded at the unspoken comment, and the King took the stone in his hand. Again reality rippled, and where there had been a stone, was now a check, made out to the jeweler's shop.

"Will that fix the issue?"

The Third smiled, and the shopkeeper took the paper, with a deep bow, the glint of excitement in his eye unmistakeable now. "As always, Mr. Aizen, it is a pleasure doing business with you and your friends."

"Also with you, Tsukishima-san." The butterfly answered, holding the door for the others to take their packages and leave.

A demon, a kitsune, and a whatever-the-hell-the-redhead-had-been-but-wasn't-human...it was certainly getting interesting around town these days. Perhaps setting up shop here had been a good idea after all, the vampire supposed, taking out a small black book to peruse until someone else came into the store. Feeling a bit peckish, the pale not-human wondered if maybe he couldn't sample the next person. Surely with a kitsune in the area, Hunting was allowed. That thought made him smile again, and he settled in to read his book.

Back at the Shrine, the felines were getting ready to go. The moment the trio entered the grounds, their glamour disappeared so as not to frustrate their living mates or the caretakers any further than they already had.

"Renji…" Gin called, uncharacteristically soft-spoken. "I…uh…Ichi-kun said I should give ya som'thin' since ya gave me that ring." He twisted it unconsciously.

"Yeah?" The tiger's tail curled in curiosity.

"Here." The Jester couldn't think of anything special to say, but he blushed furiously, as he held out the package that was topped with the small ring box identical to the one War had used to keep the ring the kitsune now wore.

Opening the box, it took Renji's breath away. "Thank ya, Koi! It's perfect."

"Heh. That's what I said."

Then the tiger opened the other half of his present. "Oh…wow…"

Over his shoulder Grimmjow whistled as the rising moonlight glinted off the enhanced and 'adjusted' titanium. Burgonet, modified to allow for the growth of the tiger's horns; breast plate, with slits in the back for his wings; spaulders, gauntlets, cuisse, and greaves. He'd wear modern steel-toed combat boots if he didn't have his paws out, and leather gloves for his hands with nicks in the tips of the fingers for his claws.

"Well, put it on Red!" Shiro called, with an arm around his mate. They were there to see the other two off, as Ulquiorra had just woken up from his nap.

"Alrigh'." War grinned and Flitted to their room.

He was back moments later, fully dressed, and manifested, like the great god he had been in ancient times. The armor fit like a glove, decorated with the same intense dark lines as War's tattoos laid over the gleaming silver of the titanium.

"It really is perfect, Koi." Renji repeated, taking his mate in his arms and kissing the fecund vulpine soundly. "I'll be back b'fore ya know it, an' I'll be safe an' sound thanks ta this...an' th' armor'll help too." He bent to plant a kiss on the Jester's belly, as the gathered Court laughed at his lame joke, "Be good, y'hear. Don't go keepin' yer mom up, an' don't go nowhere 'til I get back."

He rested his left hand, the tungsten and titanium ring glinting on his finger, over the swell, smiling proudly when he received a kick to his palm in response. Then he turned, gave the rest a wave, and Flitted off, wings discharging crimson electricity through the air as he went.

"Heh, someday, Kitten." Grimmjow purred in the King's ear. "That'll be us."

"Yeah, right." Ichigo scoffed, "Now, git. Before I miss you too much to let you go."

They exchanged a quick kiss and Conquest followed War. As soon as the blunette was out of sight, similar lightning tracing his Flit-steps, the orangette discovered he had a growth on his arm. He raised an eyebrow at the fox, but merely sighed and flexed his arm so the vulpine could feel the bunch and twist of his muscles.

**End Part 2**


	16. Lost in Conquest: Chapter 1

**A/N:** Konnichiwa, minna! I have returned triumphant from surgery. It was a little more complicated than we thought it would be going in, but overall a great success, and I am home and free, able to eat normally again. So, to celebrate, here is the beginning of Part 3! Warning, there is mention of birth in this chapter but it's not graphic, and of course, the birth comes from mpreg, but you guys should be expecting that by now. Since we left Gin expecting at the end of Part 2. Anyway, enjoy! Ja ne!

* * *

**Part 3 - Lost in Conquest**

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. The gentle caress of the spring breeze, the scent of the flowering trees, the warmth of the sun returning to a world previously wrapped in cold and ice, and the sound of...the sound of...the...sound...

"AUGH!"

Whipping around in his seat, Ichigo stared frustrated at the whimpering kitsune, floating inches above the ground. Rounded hugely in the last days of his pregnancy, Gin bit his lip, acutely aware that his noises had disturbed the King. He tried to smile but the raised orange eyebrow made him duck his head apologetically, ears falling down. Ichigo rolled his eyes and tilted his head so he looked up at the sky. That was all the invitation the silver-haired male needed. With more grace than should have been possible in that stage of fecundity, Gin pounced on the King's right arm, clutching it tightly.

"Happy now?" He asked, and Gin nodded purring and cooing. "C'mon. Let's go see if Shiro has that book translated yet."

They made their way to the library of the Shrine. The Horsemen had settled in with their mates, but due to the long millennia of neglect, they had a _lot _of work to make up. Death especially; with so many humans dying every moment, every second, there were innumerable souls sitting around needing to be collected and ferried around, not to mention those with unnaturally extended lives he needed to take. War was on in the west, famine in the Middle East and other third world countries overtaken and abused by larger powers. And now, with Gin so close to kitting, as they had set up before Renji had come home from the conflict and Grimmjow had gone in his place. War always led to Conquest one way or another after all, and that was enough for the Magic to accept Grimmjow taking over until Renji could come back.

So, when the King entered the peaceful place of knowledge with the kitsune literally on his arm, he sought out the vibrant red-haired tiger, where he was filling out damage reports and organizing the last intelligence sent to him. Just because he wasn't on the front line didn't mean he could afford to be out of touch with how things were going. As soon as the kits were born and Gin was settled with them, he'd be right back to work. It would take some doing, but somehow he had to curb humanity's insatiable lust for conflict. Hopefully this would be like the last great war he'd been a part of and would satisfy the egotistical primates for a while.

"War, I've a bit of a problem..." Ichigo gestured to where Gin was rubbing his head against the orangette's shoulder, purring and wagging his tails.

Shiro looked up from a tome thick enough that he needed to sit on two others to read the center of it, and large enough that it had its own table. He laughed, his reading glasses sliding down his nose, "Again, Gin?"

The kitsune merely purred harder and Ichigo sighed.

Renji immediately abandoned the reports to rise to his feet and go to his mate. "Gin, love, darling, you know Ichi's circulation gets cut off much faster'n mine," he coaxed. "He ain't s'thick as I am," he added with a little grin, sidling up to his mate and kissing his temple.

Aizen watched with amusement from his spot on the ceiling. He was Cocooning. Literally encased in an actual caterpillar cocoon and hung from the library ceiling. Nobody had really wanted to know, and he was disturbingly comfortable right where he was, often using magic to bring a book up for him to read. As he had been the only Horseman alive and Awake, there was little backlog for him to attend to. Thus, he was preparing for something much larger, and more complicated. The time wasn't quite right yet, but soon.

Ulquiorra, slumped into a white-and-black ball of curled limbs and wings, was under his mate's chair. He couldn't sleep at night, the dark still frightened him, and he refused to sleep if his mate wasn't near. He often woke from nightmares, the content of which he refused to speak about, but always caused him to seek comfort from his mate with a terrified desperation. His long tail curled around Shiro's wrist and twitching occasionally was sometimes the only sign he was alive, especially during quiet times like this.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and Gin launched himself at Renji with a grin. The King stepped to the side to peer over the reports, and let his bangs fall over his face. Grimmjow had been gone for seven weeks, as Gin was due any day now, but the orangette missed him terribly. His meditation exercises were the only thing that kept him from wishing the war finished and bringing his Consort home. Of course, this was the real reason the kitsune kept latching on to him. Gin was the Jester, designed specifically to keep the King entertained so he wouldn't give into the petty human desires that would unravel all of reality, like wishing a conflict over just so he could cuddle his husband.

He fingered the edge of a paper. Seven weeks...and not a single word from the blue-haired panther with whom he shared everything. Gathering his courage he smiled at the pair, and then at his brother.

"I'll be in my room if any of you need me. Someone," he slid an only half-irritated look over to Gin, "interrupted my concentration in the courtyard."

The King left, and Shiro sighed. If only he could figure out a way to make his twin happy again without destroying the fabric of time and space by creating a duplicate Grimmjow. He sat back in his chair and let his hand dangle to rest on Ulquiorra's head. About to say something to his other half, he opened his mouth, when Gin let out a terrified squeak, and everyone froze.

Holding onto his tiger's arm, the kitsune's tails were all three stuck out straight as liquid of some kind ran down his legs, soaking his hakama. The traditional fabric, worn because they were easier to adjust around his constantly growing belly and better protection than his fur after the incident mid-summer where he'd fainted, stuck to his legs, darkening. For once, his ice blue eyes were wide open, or at least as wide as they usually got, and fear crossed his features.

"Eh...Tora..."

Renji was instantly scooping him into his arms and running for the infirmary, bellowing for the midwives with all the power in his considerable, magic-reinforced, booming voice. Actually, he was more screaming for midwives, healers, and pretty much anyone who could help his mate with the birth. Like most first-time fathers, he didn't handle the knowledge that the _birth was imminent _well and was panicking.

Ulquiorra squawked in alarm and jolted up so fast he hit his head on the bottom of Shiro's seat, horns shattering the wood as they slammed into it, tail tightening around his wrist. Shiro fell off the chair as the thing tipped over in a shower of splinters in a crash. Landing on his elbow, his hand gripping Ulquiorra's tail by reflex, the albino laughed, pulling the monochromatic demon down on top of him across the broken furniture.

"Guess we should go help 'im calm War down, ne?"

Aizen sighed and his magic flashed out as he used it to prepare the not-closet where Gin had made his nest. He smirked in amusement. "Gin will be fine, he is made to give birth with little to no trouble, but Renji, of course, panics."

Ulquiorra blinked owlishly. "I...yesh, I shuppose-" he cleared his throat, a spark of leaf green flashing between his teeth as his regeneration fixed his bitten tongue. "Still, I suppose we should calm him. His panic will only stress his mate."

"Indeed," Aizen said with a chuckle. "You may need to bodily subdue him. He will want to be with his mate, but Vixen kitsune tend to get...very, very violent when a Reynard is near their Birthing Den. They fear him killing the cubs, which is usually ridiculous since he is usually the sire, but instinct still typically will not tolerate any Reynards. Mind, Gin is rather unique, so he may have a completely unexpected reaction."

"Wait…Vixen? Inn't that th' word fer a female fox?" Shiro shook his head with a confused frown.

His mate chuckled. "Because kitsune can change gender at will, they use the terms Vixen and Reynard to describe the dam and sire of a litter of kits. Gin is carrying the litter, so he is a Vixen. Renji sired them, so—"

"He's my Reynard!" A cheerful voice from the hall cut the bat off.

Gin, in all his soggy glory, had shifted around to be riding his mate's considerable shoulder, using his mist cloud to support his belly and legs as he directed the redhead to run back past the library. Birthing was easy, and the running like a psychotic headless chicken was entertaining him while labor progressed. He also figured that if he kept Renji going the tiger would eventually tire out and then the kitsune could get down to business. Just because his water broke was no reason to panic, but he knew better than to try and reason with his terrified mate. So he giggled.

"Here, here, in here." He pulled on the crimson ponytail and brought them right back to where they started, Shiro laughing again at the expectant father's lost expression.

"I…wha…yer no' givin' birth in 'ere!" Renji, poor man, sounded so lost, and still rather frightened for his mate.

Aizen and Ulquiorra both snickered, joining Shiro's mirth. "No, he's not," Death supplied, "but your panic amuses him, which is good by the way, so please do continue."

Shiro pounded the floor, still twisted in the mangled remains of the chair. He had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. "Oh Red! Th' look on yer face!"

Renji whined like a dog rather than the tiger he was. Was it so bad to worry for the love of his lives?

Gin also smiled, between contractions at the moment, and nuzzled his mate. "It's ok, we were having fun, weren't we? Wanna go to my nest now?"

Calmer in his confusion, War pouted. "Yes, Mate. I do."

"Okies." The kitsune sing-songed, and pulled on the ponytail still in his hand. "This way."

The two made their way to the East building, to the not-closet. It was dark, secluded and private. No windows, one door, and filled with so many blankets, pillows, towels and other soft materials, arranged just so. Upon arriving, Gin pulled Renji into the room, and slammed the door. The tiger may have been panicked about it, but he was all the sex demon needed to take care of this end of things. Of course, the silver-haired man swore up and down that it had nothing to do with retribution regarding the fact that he'd had to spend the last several months uncomfortable and emotional due to the voracity with which Renji mated him that first time. Of course it wasn't all the Horseman's fault, though outside the door Shiro winced when the whimpering sound of the vibrant redhead came around the cracks.

Ulquiorra mimicked his Mage. "I think...we'd best not intrude. Or we will be next, mate."

Shiro giggled and settled in the hallway to cuddle his mate and wait for the redhead to emerge again. "Yah, just wanted ta make sure he didn't kill 'im."

The next several hours were spent in patience, the ashen pair reading, or playing chess, or just enjoying each other's company. Once, Ichigo stopped by to check on the progress of things but he didn't stay long, only enough to bring drinks and a small meal for the waiting audience. Eventually as the sun was beginning to set, casting the entire hall in soft purple, pink and orange hues, the door finally opened again.

Renji had an alarming new collection of scars and was favoring his entire right arm, the hand bones reforming before their eyes though they had obviously been reduced to powder, and he was limping.

"War, are you—"

"I don' wanna talk 'bout it," he warbled before limping down the hall toward the kitchen in search of his own food. Gin had refused to eat until the kits were born and had nursed for the first time. That meant the tiger hadn't been allowed to eat either.

Ulquiorra blinked rapidly several times. "...oh dear."

Shiro whistled, then climbed to his feet. He pushed the door around gently, "Gin...?"

"Hai, hai!" The voice was entirely too cheerful for having gone through all of that, but the frame of the kitsune was more truthful than his voice. Hair limp, and a dull soft grey, his mist cloud hung on the floor in the corners, and he was laying heavily on the prop of pillows that shielded the nest from the door. "Ah, Shiro-kun. Come in an' see 'em!"

The albino entered and knelt next to the wall of blankets. Curled in balls of quickly drying fluff were three, almost entirely feral looking fox kits the size of the typical newborn human. They had tiny hands instead of paws, and their faces were more human than vulpine, but all three had tiny conical ears and each sported a single floofy fox tail. One was dark grey with blond tiger markings, one was maroon with white paws and tail tip and one, amazingly was white—all white. This one fidgeted as the albino watched, a glare coming across his tiny features, and opened serious turquoise eyes to glare at the newcomers disturbing his rest.

Ulquiorra peeked in the door, silently inquiring if he was allowed to come in and meet the kits. Being demonic in nature, and not kitsune, it was highly likely that the bat would be perceived as a threat by the newly delivered Vixen, and the last thing the Fourth wanted to do was cause undue stress to him.

"Ah, Qio-san! Look, look! See! Otou-san came to us." Gin pointed tiredly at the blond and grey kit, who yawned and flopped over, a smile on his face.

The only female was the little maroon one, and she kept trying to climb awkwardly on top of the white one. Like their animal cousins, kitsune kits could move around almost immediately after birth. They would be mostly fox-like until they were about a year old, at which point their abilities as a kitsune would emerge and they'd begin learning things on the level of a human toddler, like speech, reading, and the social interactions that they'd need to exploit later to gain Essence from humans to fuel their powers and abilities.

Ichigo appeared behind Ulquiorra at that point and took a seat next to his twin. Gin purred at the three of them, one tail wagging limply, and the orangette asked, "How come they only have one tail?"

Both Gin and Shiro started to answer, but the exhaustion of labor gave the kitsune the incentive to let the Mage take over. "They won' get their second tail 'til they're at least a hundred years old."

"Does that mean Gin's over...?" The King asked.

"M three hundred an thirty, give er take a decade." Gin laughed as Ichigo's eyes went wide at the implications of just hold old their Uncle Kisuke had been.

Ulquiorra's tail lashed and he resisted the urge to snarl at the mention, as he made his way to kneel on Shiro's other side. The only reason the poor man had been forced to live so unnaturally long had been the curse he had been tricked into casting, a curse that tortured the caster just as much as the targets. But this was a happy occasion. He was not going to spoil it with dark thoughts, simply crooning to the kits as he petted them gently.

The female tumbled over backwards and looked up at the green eyes of the bat and cooed, hands waving in the air as if to claw at his fur. The white one made a growly type noise, kicking the female, who wailed and began to cry. The white one looked satisfied with himself, and the grey one blinked at his siblings confused, perfectly content to sit leaning against his momma. Ichigo picked up the little female, humming to her to quiet her, and rocking her gently. Shiro watched carefully for a little while, memorizing the appearance of his twin with the child. Then he turned and tickled the white boy, earning himself another growly noise, to which he laughed.

"What ya gonna call 'em?"

"The white one is Toshiro. The little girl is Rangiku, an' I'm gonna name Otousan's reincarnation Kisuke, after his grandpa, if nobody minds. Renji said it was ok, but that I should ask you guys first. I dun wanna upset anybody, but I'd really like ta name 'im after m' tou-san." The kitsune looked pleadingly at Ulquiorra, and the twins mimicked him, waiting for Death's response.

Ulquiorra gave him a soft smile. "I don't mind, and I'm sure the others won't either," he assured. "Kisuke was a kind, loving boy just a little too smart for his own good, tricked by an evil creature just as the rest of us were. The sins of past lives are forgiven, always."

Shiro grinned, soundly picking up Toshiro, and leaning into Ulquiorra's shoulder. "Mah, that's great. Check this little guy out, he's all scowls and grumpiness, like Blue in the morning. Look it!"

Said kitsune pup growled again, wiggling and trying to escape his 'uncle's' grasp unsuccessfully. Ichigo looked over and smiled softly, holding Rangiku closer, and petting her ears gently. Then he set her down next to her momma, where she immediately grabbed onto Kisuke with a yawn. The King stood, the same sad smile on his face.

"I think we should let Gin rest," He suggested as the tired silver fox yawned widely himself. "Congrats, Gin. They're adorable." He didn't wait for anyone else to answer before giving a small bow and leaving.

At the end of Gin's yawn, he smacked his lips a little and said, "Y'know, he looks pretty good with kits."

"Yeah, King's al'ays been good with kids. Musta been growin' up wi' our sisters an' Goat Face after Kaa-chan died." Shiro scratched his head, and shook it slightly. "I wish he could have a kid of his own, then maybe he wouldn't be so lonely."

No one in the nest room noticed as Magic leapt to answer its master's desire, eager to do him this service after waiting so long. But in the library, Aizen shuddered inside his cocoon, frowning. Such surges of magic were usually the result of a Royal Directive...and yet Ichigo's aura was...oh. Oh, dear. The little Mage had finally come into his power.


	17. Lost in Conquest: Chapter 2

**A/N:** Konnichiwa, minna! There is also mpreg in this part of the series, but I hope we've handled it as tactfully this time around as we did in the last part.

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Two months later, Aizen's fear appeared to come to pass as Ichigo sped across the courtyard, past the wide windows in the West building to the bathing house a hand clasped over his mouth. He barely made it to the toilet, modern in spite of the more traditional surroundings, and was violently ill as everything he'd eaten in the last twenty-four hours came back up to greet him. Only twenty-four hours because at almost this exact same time the previous day, he'd done the same thing. In fact, the last two weeks, almost every day his morning ritual had begun with dashing to the bathhouse. Now, he was seriously beginning to consider wishing the stupid toilet be located closer to his bedroom.

"Ugh..." He moaned, mentally wishing once again that his blue-haired lover would return regardless of the consequences of reality.

As though responding to his mental desires, there was a ripple through the Shrine's senses, informing the Royal of the new arrival. Conquest had come home. Renji, now that his mate was okay and their kits developing well, was able to return to work, and several months of practice with his Flit, thanks to Ichigo and Grimmjow's suggestions, meant he could now go to work and then come home at night to be with his family. It had come to be a 'nine-to-five-job'.

Regardless, the panther came stalking into bedroom of the sanctuary he shared with the King, paws padding silently across the stone floor in his demon form, looking thoroughly exhausted.

A very few minutes later, Ichigo returned, hand absently rubbing his stomach and looking like...well...Death warmed over. Sleepy, dull amber blinked in confusion and his brows drew together. "Yer...home?"

A slow smile took over his face, and he immediately crawled into bed to cuddle the one person he knew for certain would make him feel better, paws, fur and all. He pulled gently on the feline's shoulders, nuzzling his head under Conquest's chin with a satisfied sigh, even the way he smelled, covered in sweat and battle, was heavenly to the monarch.

"Yep, love, I'm home," The blunette rumbled affectionately, petting his mate's hair.

He smelled...different. Sweeter? But he wasn't thinking about that now. Right now he was thinking about how perfect and warm he felt in his arms, how content he was to just touch his King and mate. How good it felt to be home. Their good feeling was interrupted almost immediately however by a second round of nausea.

Ichigo rolled away, sitting up fairly quickly to avoid spitting stomach acid on his other half. If he focused on something far away and tried not to think about doing anything but just sitting there he just might be able to get away with not running to the toilet again. The last week had taught him that.

"Ugh...not again."

"What's th' matter?"

Conquest was concerned, blinking at his mate, not sure if he should cuddle him for comfort or refrain from touching. He decided on the latter since the orangette had moved away, and perched much like a cat on his belly, ears flicking curiously.

"Gonna...urp..." Ichigo belched, holding his stomach and then ran. Off the bed, out the door with a slam and back to the bathhouse, leaving a trail of open doors and blowing leaves in his wake.

The panther blinked. He was…sick? Wait. The King didn't get sick. What the fuck? It was practically audible as the poor Horseman's mental gears ground together. After he nearly broke his brain, he gave up and went slinking after his mate to wait for him outside the bathhouse.

"G-grimm...?" The King whimpered from where he leaned against the wall next to the toilet.

Conquest looked about in confusion, and said, "I'm here."

Grimm? Who was this Grimm? He might not be who the King wanted, but he was there if Ichigo would accept him as a substitute.

"Could you get Shiro...he said he had some kind of spell that makes it easier, I think...it worked on Gin." His voice was gravelly, and tired...so, so tired. He actually dozed off a little, eyes closed and breathing softly.

"...Ichi? Yer King," the Horseman said carefully. "Why don' ya jus' Order yer sickness away? Say 'I am no' sick' an' make it true?"

Still, he rose to his paws noiselessly, ready to pad off and get the Mage. He was just a little concerned as to why the King was not using his power.

"That wouldn't be right. It's not their fault they're making me sick, and Gin said it'll go away in a couple of months." The orangette shifted around so he could look at his Consort out the open door.

"Ah. I'll git th' Mage then."

Them? Who, or what, the fuck was—_oh!_ Well, that explained the sweet scent. He'd ask about it later, and he went bounding off on all fours, streaking out of the room to fetch the Mage to tend to his ailing King.

Shiro looked up from his customary position, above a snoozing Ulquiorra, reading some thick, ancient tome detailing how to channel magic or what symbols were best to use during which time of the year, which gods to call upon or how to expand his mind such that he could use the not-voice that the others did.

"Blue, you're home! Wait...why are you running? Is King ok? He didn't start bleeding again, did he?!"

"Not bleedin', jus' sick," the panther replied, "said ya knew a spell ta help, asked me ta git'cha." First 'Grimm', now 'Blue'? Why was the Mage calling him that? So weird. Shiro knew that wasn't his name.

"Oh. Yeah. That. Um..."

The albino shuffled some papers around on his desk, and when the tail curled around his wrist didn't let him move his arm, he absently uncurled it and held the tip in his hand while he used the previously captured appendage to grab a parchment that had was looked like a recipe written on it.

"Here we go. Just take this to the kitchen. The coffee pot will know what to do."

Conquest took it in his lips, carefully holding it so it didn't get any spit on it, and once more took off on all fours. He had no desire to get it all icky but he traveled fastest in this form and as far as he could tell he needed to get this to his King as soon as possible.

Shiro, in the meantime, once again unwound the stubborn tail from his wrist. "Qio-love, I gotta see ta Ichi, he's havin' a bad day. He didn' sleep much last night, an' ya know that always makes it worse in th' mornin'."

"Return soon, Mate," Death requested sleepily, slinking out from under the chair. As long as he would be getting no more sleep, he might as well get some work done.

"I shall help," Aizen sighed and for the first time in four months, he started to move.

He wriggled, then shrugged, then he flexed and the casing shattered into fine, glittering dust as his wings unfurled to let him glide to the floor. They were more than twice their previous size. The colors were more pure, more brilliant, he had a double rainbow on each wing now, swirled in a mesmerizing, hypnotic design, and their glitter and shine was somehow even brighter, almost like a glow.

"You have both passed up numerous remedies so obvious they were never recorded in any book, and thus were forgotten by people."

The light, the shine and the words were a trap combination for Shiro. He frowned, scanning his notes quickly, as though he was sure he'd have written these things down, in spite of what the butterfly had just said.

"Like what?"

The butterfly reached out and stilled the albino's hands. "Natural remedies and herbs. Raspberry leaf and honey teas have been used by women for countless centuries to calm morning sickness and settle their stomachs, something both of you overlooked in favor of complicated potions. I am not surprised, seeing as neither you, nor the King, are women and wouldn't think to ask a female, but such simple, and might I add completely natural, methods are easily forgotten by being so common. Frankly, they would be better for him."

"Uh..." The albino scratched his head absently, feeling like he'd overlooked an obvious resource. "I think that potion I gave Blue had honey, raspberry and ginger in it. Th' book said somethin' 'bout bein' used in th' Middle Ages fer pregnancy, I think."

"Naturally. As I said, it has been used for centuries. Come, I'm sure Grimm has delivered the potion by now and he will need us." Aizen gave an indulgent smile.

Grimmjow indeed had delivered the potion in a coffee mug, on his back feet this time so he didn't spill it. By then, Ichigo had once again managed to crawl to bed, one of the priestesses had come past, given him a mop bucket and a soft smile with a few words of encouragement born of having helped her own mother with this same exact problem. So, he was curled on his side, dozing but with the bucket close by just in case. When the feline entered the room, he opened an eye and smiled again.

"Faster to run with paws than feet, ne?"

"Much faster," his Consort replied, padding over and handing him the cup. "Can't run wit'out spillin' though."

The king took a whiff of the potion and shuddered. "Eh...you sure this is the same stuff that Gin drank?"

The potion smelled positively foul. Neither were quite sure how it was supposed to _stop _Ichigo's vomiting rather than inducing it, but who were they to argue with the Mage?

"He gave me th' recipe an' said ta give it ta the coffeemaker. It gave me this. So, I guess so." The panther shrugged, and tried to reassure the King by licking a few drops from his hand where it had spilled just a bit. "It don't taste half as bad as it smells."

Ichigo eyed him suspiciously, but knocked the drink back in one go. He was right, though it smelled atrocious, it was sweet with a subtle sour undertone and a bite that tickled the back of his tongue. It was so good in fact that now that the mug was empty, the orangette almost wished for more.

He made a noise of amusement, then looked over his lover, "Alright, now that my stomach should be settled, get over here."

The Horseman grinned and climbed up into the bed, curling around and cuddling his mate. "Glad yer feelin' better."

"Of course I'm feeling better, you're home." The King smiled and buried his nose in the black and white fur of his Consort's arm.

Conquest cuddled into him all comfortable, letting him relax from the violent heaving so he wouldn't be too distressed when he asked about what was bugging him. "Hey Ichi...d'ya know how far along ya are?"

"Hmm...that's one of the weirdest things, y'know...Aizen says I'm only about eight weeks in, but that's ridiculous." He sighed. It was a constant debate that he simply couldn't stand even thinking about.

"Why's it ridiculous?" Black, but soft-skinned hands caressed his belly gently, watching the sharp claws. All that meant was whoever the King had fancied two months ago had to be the father.

"Well, cuz, as far as I know, the only one capable of immaculate conception is me, and I know I didn't make the Wish. I'm not against it, though getting used to the idea took some severe control on both words and thoughts at first." The orangette laughed a bit, and watched the way his Consort was petting him. "It just shouldn't have been possible."

"Oh everybody knows immaculate conception's bullshit. The King at th' time didn't want 'is lover stoned ta death so 'e made her virgin again with a Directive," the feline chuckled, waving that off. "But no, wha' I meant was, why wouldn't it be possible? Was yer lover at th' time sterile 'r sumthin?"

"Lover? What do you mean? Since we got together I haven't touched anyone else, not even Shiro." Ichigo frowned, more confused than anything else.

"But…tha' don't make no sense." The panther frowned, his stroking coming to a stop. Of course, what he _didn't _say was it made no sense for Ichigo not to have lovers. Lots of them. "I can't be th' father, so ya _must'a _been wit' somebody."

The smaller male shifted so he could look the feline in the eye. "And I'm telling you I wasn't. You're the only person I've had sex with in almost four years."

The panther sat up, frowning deeper. "But…tha' ain't how it works. I been gone four months...c'mon, surely ya know who?" He wanted to know. He didn't care, he'd still raise the child with all the love he had, but he wanted to know _who_.

"I know it makes no sense. None of them will explain it to me, but there hasn't been anyone else. I swear! Don't you believe me?" Ichigo also sat up, putting a bit of space between them so that he could rest against the wall.

"Well..."

Damn it. The King couldn't lie, unless he'd gotten enough control that not everything was a Directive. Since this 'Grimm' hadn't been summoned when Ichigo inquired for him, Conquest could only assume this was true, but even then there could be slip ups so as a rule all of the incarnations of the King tended to be incredibly honest. Plus, he didn't want to call his mate a liar. He fidgeted nervously.

"I jus'…there's gotta be someone! S' th' only way this could'a happened, I just wanna know who, I won't even kill 'em," he promised, very uncomfortable.

"That's it, isn't it?" Ichigo hadn't quite gotten complete control over everything and still needed to watch the way he phrased direct sentences but when the statement was already true reality didn't need to bend to change it, which was why nothing happened when he followed that up with, "You don't believe me. I live with you for two and a half years, date you for over three, and have been your husband for the better part of one, but you don't believe me when I say I've never cheated on you. I don't know how this happened. I don't know why, but I do know that it's a gift. And if all you're going to do is sit there and ignore what I'm saying then I don't know if I have anything else to say right now."

Internally he cursed at the way his bottom lip quivered, and the stinging in the corners of his eyes. He had never been emotional, or well, he'd never been tearful. Angry, yes. Violent, sure. But prone to crying? Never. Not since his mother had died. So, the way his eyes threatened to water, and his heart clenched in his chest as even more painful due to him fighting them.

Conquest didn't know what to say or how to react. He just wasn't understanding, and what the King said only confused him. Dating for over three years? Be together with for two and a half? He didn't remember any such thing, but his mate was in distress.

"I'm sorry, I'm not ignorin' what yer tellin' me, it just…I can't bring m'self ta believe it." He reached for him, wanting to comfort.

The King wanted nothing more than to fall into that embrace, the one he'd been missing for so long, but something held him back. He frowned at the black paw-like hand. "Are your hands always going to be like that?"

The panther blinked down at his hands. They'd always been like that, so... "I guess. S' it bother you?"

"A little. I miss your hands. So strong. The only one who's ever gone those places on me." The orangette sadly took the offered limb in both of his own, the pale bronze a drastic contrast to the pitch black. "Why would you think I'd cheat on you, Grimm?"

He blinked for a moment, seemingly confused by the question and more so confused by Ichigo addressing him by that odd name again. "Um...yer King? An' th' world's yer slut if you felt so inclined? An' ya need heirs? An' it's jus' kinda what Kings _do_."

The orangette scoffed. "You know the only other partner I've ever had was my twin. Why would I even want to get involved with someone else? And now, obviously," His hand touched his stomach, "the idea of heirs is taken care of. Qio says the first born is always a set of twins and the older of the two will be the heir. So, these two will be enough. Besides, is that all I am anymore?" The last was said quietly, with a tremor of fear that spoke of hidden terrors buried deep in the orangette's heart.

"Is..._what _all ya are?" The feline's tail formed a question mark.

Ichigo had wandered into territory completely beyond his comprehension. A King with no lovers except his mate? Mind-breaking! It just didn't _work _like that! Eventually the King would lose interest in the mate, either undoing the mating or starting to bring new people and things to bed to spice it up but sooner or later even that would get old and they would once again have to start looking elsewhere. Living for millennia, it just wasn't possible to stay sexually satisfied with _one _person.

The expression on Ichigo's face was such that it clashed horribly with the next sentence out of his mouth. His eyebrows were drawn in, creasing the skin deeply. His mouth was a straight line, if slightly turned down at the corners. His nose flared ever so slightly with his breath. His chin was tilted such that he was looking up at the blue panther, but those eyes. Expressive, vibrant, and endless. At the moment, filled with a sort of melancholy resignation that meant whatever the Horseman had meant, the words he'd said were absolutely the wrong ones. However, the King didn't comment on them.

After a moment of watching—no, searching the blunette's own eyes, he drew a breath, "I think I'm hungry."

Then he rose from the bed and wrapping a robe around himself, made his way out of their private building to the common areas, willing himself not to think about what had been implied in that conversation.

Frowning, the feline went after him, confused and lost and clinging to the only thing he really knew as truth at that point: He, First Horseman, Conquest, was mated to the current King, and his mate was pregnant and upset. He didn't know why exactly he was upset or how he was pregnant and kept insisting he was the father, and he _really _didn't understand how he'd just messed up, but he was aware he'd made a grave error. It needed to be corrected, though he was unsure how, so he simply trailed after his monarch, a little lost and a lot concerned.

Halfway through the courtyard, Ichigo spun and looked down at his Consort, who was padding along on all fours. His frowned deepened, becoming more menacing. "You still don't believe me." It didn't need to be a Directive. "I can hear it in your aura. I don't know how or why or even when you lost faith in me but you know what? I can guarantee you that these two will come out looking just like you, and then..." He was vibrating with a combination of anger and pain, "And then, you'll have to beg me to forgive you for doubting me." Then he spun on his heel and marched into the common rooms without another word.


	18. Lost in Conquest: Chapter 3

**A/N: **Ohaiyo, minna! Early update cuz I'm bored. lol Because this is the only fic I'm updating, I'm getting tired of working just with this one. I know...I know...I need to get back into working on the other fics, but my surgery and everything just has me all off my game. I'm hoping and praying to be able to get back into it soon...I'm starting to go stir-crazy, Silva and I have been starting fic after fic after fic and never finishing a one of them...x.x GAH! Hopefully things'll get sorted out soon, minna. Anyway, enjoy! Ja ne!

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The Directive hit the panther harder than any blow. He was frozen in place for several long, long moments before he went into an absolute _fit_! Howling, clawing, screaming and carrying on, his rant spanning so many different languages only someone equally versed, like Aizen, would have understood even the general gist. How _dare _he?! Conquest was trying to be a good mate dammit, trying so hard, he even forced himself not to get angry when Ichigo wouldn't say who the father was, but then he goes and does _this_?! Forcibly changes the children to _be _Conquest's when they were someone else's by birthright, and then, _then _enslave his mate, his own mate, a Horseman, by means of a Directive?! His roar of unbridled rage shook the very castle foundations. No! Conquest debased himself for no-one, not even his mate! _He refused_! But it was a Directive, he would have no choice. How could he? How could his mate, his loved and trusted mate, _turn him into a goddamned puppet_?!

"Mah...so much anger, Kitty-kun."

Gin just happened to be making his own way back from the bathhouse at that moment. The triplets were down for a nap and he had just finished a much needed soak in the hot spring. He'd missed the Directive, but the tell-tale snap of power hadn't seemed strong enough to cause that kind of reaction from the First.

"_Snarrrrrrl! _He's fuckin' som'body else, I don' giv-a-shit 'bout tha', bu' 'e won' tell me 'oo," Said feline snapped, pacing, accent thick with anger, "an' jus' Directed 'is lover's kids ta become mine, an' me ta grovel fer fergiv'ness when things 'appen as he's Directed! I grovel fer no-one! I refused ta debase m'self even fer the _goddamn King o' th' Abyss 'imself!_ How DARE he abuse me dis way?!" He let out another shriek, leaping for the nearest non-living thing and tearing it to shreds in his rage and frustration.

The kitsune summoned his mist cloud, just so he could easily get out of the way of the rampaging Horseman. "Well...now, granted 'M not 'xactly an expert on th' subject, but he ain't left the Shrine since ya left. 'Member, he took th' semester off so ya could cover fer Tora? Thanks fer that, by the way. An' I know he ain't sleepin' wit' any o' us. Shiro's been holed up wit' Qio th' whole time, an' So-So only jus' broke outta his cocoon t'day. Yer th' only one I c'n think of him sleeping wit', an' well...wouldn't I know?" The sex demon implied that his role as the Jester meant that keeping the King entertained was his job, so if the King wanted a concubine or any other sort of escort, he'd be the one to pick them out.

Conquest paused, calming just slightly, and raked his hands through his hair. "Yeah...yah, tha' makes sense. So, fergettin' the random pregnancy bit, I ain't gonna fergive th' rest so easily! Ya _know _I don' grovel, Gin."

No, indeed, he had been tortured and killed, once had very nearly had his core-self destroyed, which would have removed him even from the reincarnation cycle, but he had never betrayed himself to grovel, beg, or debase himself. That would have destroyed his core much more than physically harming it.

"Bu' he's gone an' made it a Directive! Th' second I seen that kid 'e's carryin', I'll be forced ta betray m'own self an' all I ever stood fer. Ya know as well as I do it'll break somethin' in me 'at can't git fixed," he said the last part quieter, body sagging where it stood.

His mate was going to destroy the thing that made him who he was and he could do nothing to stop it. That hurt more than anything.

"Mebbe ya need ta try an' get him ta reverse it? He said somethin' 'bout fergivin' ya, right?" The kitsune shrugged. "Earn his fergiveness b'fore th' kits 're born." He rolled over so he could look at the feline upside down, hanging backwards off of his cloud. "I said a whole buncha stuff that I didn' mean when I was knocked up. Nah, I know I couldn't change Reality like he c'n, but it didn' mean I didn' hurt m' Tora by sayin' 'em. Mebbe ya should set aside that he's th' King fer a bit an' jus' love 'im as your mate. Th' Directive'll sort itself out. If nothin' else, Shiro'll take care o' it when he finds out. Cuz I know fer a fact, yer mate's in there pourin' his heart out ta his twin as we speak. 'M sure he knows 'xactly how much he hurt ya, but he doe'n't know how ta fix it. He's still pretty young, ya know."

The panther looked _very _confused. Young? He was King. And set aside him being King? His brain couldn't comprehend it.

"...I'll not be goin' ta him," he decided stubbornly. "I crawl fer nobody, not even 'im. I will not go crawlin' or grovelin'," he repeated firmly with a growl, as though proving it to himself more than Gin, before turning on his paws, dropping to all fours, and taking off.

He wanted a hot bath, then to find two or three priestesses who would coo and squeal over his feline features, pet and maybe massage him a little, and then get some damn rest.

"Well, that ain't gonna go over well..." Gin muttered and used his cloud to appear in the library, where true to form Ichigo was sobbing, angry and basically exploding things almost faster than Aizen and Ulquiorra could fix them. "Yup, definitely not gonna end well." He ducked a flying a book and approached the butterfly, "So-so..."

The butterfly, despite making semi-frantic motions to keep a plethora of spells up and running and aimed at the correct objects, seemed perfectly normal when he replied, "Yes Gin?"

He sounded like he was sitting in a chair reading, not desperately trying to keep the library intact through the King's emotional onslaught. Ulquiorra was doing the same, chanting under his breath in Sumerian as his mate comforted his monarch.

"We've got a problem wit'...um...First." He whispered the name, but Ichigo heard him anyway, and a bust of some philosopher went flying through where the kitsune had been not two seconds before to shatter against the wall. The kitsune made a nervous noise as his ears went back, "Mebbe we should talk elsewhere...?"

"No!" The King was on his feet. "What's the fucker up to now? Off ta kill somethin'? To fuck somethin'? Accuses me of sleepin' around and then he's gonna go off an' do it, isn't he?" Several books exploded into particles of paper only to be repaired immediately by Shiro.

Gin whimpered. He didn't know for certain but he had suspicions. "I think...um...well...uh...see, yer Majesty, he...uh...mebbe he's jus',...yeah, I got nothin'...So-so? Help!" He hid behind the brunette butterfly, deeming the instability in the King's emotions enough to warrant both protection and formality.

"Enough, Ichigo!" Aizen's voice cracked like a whip of pure power, and his use of the King's Name lent even more power to his command.

He could not overcome the King, exactly, but he could exert some considerable influence, which was what he wanted. He needed Ichigo calm, at least calm enough to explain what was going on.

"I know you gave a Royal Directive! Tell me what it was, the exact words. I have known Conquest longer than you have been alive and no matter how many times he is reincarnated his core is the same and behaves in simple, predictable patterns. Give me the data, and I can tell you exactly what his response is."

"He can," Ulquiorra supplied, holding a barrier over Gin with one hand and fixing a broken wall with the other. "He can do it to all of us except you, and he can accurately predict even your behavior nearly sixty-four percent of the time, Ichigo. But you must be calm enough to supply the information he needs."

Taking a deep breath, the King closed his eyes. The library righted itself, as though he'd never had his outburst. To the point that even the papers and books that had been out and open and being used were back in the places they were. He took another breath, and a static shock ran through everything backwards. Another couple of breaths and he re-opened his eyes, looking defeated.

"It doesn't matter. I've reversed it. There's no help for it, I suppose. Eventually, I'll probably be all fat and ugly and he won't want me anyways." He re-took the seat he had taken when he first arrived to find comfort from his twin.

Lips pursing, Aizen marched straight up to the pregnant man and put a strong hand on his shoulder, the other tilting his chin up so he looked him in the eye, chestnut to amber. "This is _important_. Even if you undid it, he will still follow through on the behavior and _I need to know what he is doing_. Even though he is Awake as a Horseman, this _does not make him immortal_. He is just as mortal as he ever was, merely a hell of a lot harder to kill, and there are certain situations that always, I repeat, always, as in _one hundred percent of the time _these situations and events occur, that he goes _running headlong into death _immediately afterwards. Now. What. Did. You. Direct?" His wings were dyed orange-yellow with worry and streaked with a disturbing murky brown: worry and fear.

"I...I told him that the twins would be born looking just like him, and that...that he'd have to beg me to forgive him..."

Even as he said it a second time, Ichigo knew as surely now as he had then, how horribly wrong it had been to say it. His lover was proud, bowed down for no man, and would never grovel, even if he was commanded to do so. It was one of the things that had made him fall in love with the vibrant feline man the first time he laid eyes on him, before all of this nonsense with prophecies and magic had consumed his life. He couldn't even meet Aizen's gaze and tears, fat and heavy, began to fall anew, though this time tinged in despair, making gentle silver-grey clouds gather outside, drizzling.

"Oh thank the Abyss," the butterfly breathed. "His reaction to that is easily remedied."

Ulquiorra looked at him in confusion. "He would see that as a betrayal by his mate. How is that easy?"

"Ichigo merely needs to admit what he knows already, that to give such an order was wrong. His reaction to rage is volatile, his reaction to _hurt _on the other hand is nearly formula. First, he will bathe, then he will seek out comfort, and then he will go to bed to try and persuade himself that he isn't actually emotionally hurt. It's the seeking out comfort where we might run into a problem," Aizen added thoughtfully, tapping his chin.

Ulquiorra frowned. "How so?"

"Well, Grimmjow seeks comfort differently depending on how hurt he is. For something this severe, he's beyond looking for sex...but being feline, he wants touch. He will go to the priestesses for pampering. But his position will be highly compromising and may send Ichigo into a whole new fit." A look of concern crossed the Third's face and his wings reflected that emotion.

"That's ok. I don't really want him to see me like this anyway." Ichigo drew his feet up onto the couch and wrapped his arms around his knees. "I may Direct him again...and I don't wanna do that."

Shiro, having no words to comfort his King, merely sat down next to the orangette and held him. Pulling him to his chest and stroking his hair, much the same way as had been done for him in the past. Gin also floated over to add his own comfort, if he could, but it did little to soothe the ache developing under the King's breastbone.

"It's like...all I am anymore is the King. Even you guys don't treat me the same. There's always this fear that I'm gonna say something that can't be reversed, and I get it. I do. I can handle it from you guys. Even Horse, here, and Rage, but Grimm...he always looked beyond my mask. He always knew me, even better than I knew myself it seemed, and now...the longer he's away from me, the less he knows me. It wasn't much at first, but now...now I don't think he even knows my name." The King buried his face in his knees.

That...niggled something in Aizen's mind. It did, but he couldn't quite...bring it into the light. He was sure it would come out later, for now he stroked Ichigo's hair and made a soothing sound under his breath.

Grimmjow, meanwhile, clean now, was indeed lounging naked in the laps of three different priestesses, having oils massaged into his non-furry skin and purring like a truck engine. Like all cats, he just _loved_ to be pampered.

Gin took in the situation, poofed out of the library, checked on his kits, then appeared in the room with the feline. "We gotta talk, Kitty-kun."

One ear perked and swiveled his way, but he didn't open an eye and his long, muscled body didn't so much as twitch. Disturb this lovely massage? Not unless his mate needed him.

"Mah. Ok. Then I'll talk an' ya c'n listen." The kitsune's tails twitched, 'accidentally' smacking two of the priestesses' behinds on his way past as he paced the room. "Y'know me an' Tiger 're real grateful fer all th' help ya've given us. What wit' th' conflict thing an' th' kits an' him bouncin' back an' forth. Thanks fer settin' that up by th' way. But, now it's m' turn ta give it back ta ya. Ichi-kun's all in knots. He ain't used ta dealin' wit' this shit. Least o' all the twins. I mean, 'M a kitsune, we're born fer it, he was human. Human males can't get preggers. At least...not wi'out Directive. So, he's been workin' his ass off tryin' ta learn all this shit that comes easy fer all'a us, an' at th' same time he's had ta watch ya run off an' do all the shit ya've been doin' an' I think it's gettin' ta him. Now, he's all knock-knocked an' he don't know where it came from. Nobody seems ta, or if they do, nobody's sayin' anythin'. So, ya come home, an' th' first thing ya ask him 'bout it, is who he's been sleepin' wit'? I think I'd be more'n a little upset at that m'self. He says all ya see in him anymore is th' King, an' he's more'n that. That ya used ta know him better, er somethin'...I sorta dozed out a little when he was talkin' 'bout that stuff, but it sounds ta me like instead'a runnin' away, ya should be cuddlin' up ta him. Ya know, like ya told Tiger ta do wit' me a couple months ago," He flushed a deep scarlet, "when I was nestin' so bad he could find anywhere ta sleep cuz I'd stolen all th' blankets. Ya told him ta go sleep wit' me in my nest, an' he did an' it stopped bein' a problem. Sah...mebbe, I'll talk ta Tora 'bout it, an' get ya a week er so ta stay home an' reconnect wit' him. How's that sound?"

Conquest rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on his crossed arms and frowning. "...only if 'e ain't gunna Direct me like tha' again. Y know I can't handle it, Gin. I jus' can't."

The kitsune ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "Ya know he don't mean it. I think if ya gave him half th' chance he'd reverse anythin' he said. That's what he did wit' this one anyway. Said he didn't want ta Direct ya anyway."

"A'right. I'll go talk ta 'im."

Hopping to his paws, armor rippled up out of his skin to cover his nudity and the panther disappeared, taking off to go find his mate to comfort him. They could straighten things out when they weren't so strung out and stressed. They didn't make sense of each other when they were both under this much pressure.

Gin rolled his eyes and wandered off to find his own mate. He needed something to chew on, damnit...maybe the redhead would be up for a blowjob.


	19. Lost in Conquest: Chapter 4

**A/N: **Konnichiwa, minna! Sorry I'm late posting this, as any of you who've read Dominate Me knows, this weekend was my partner, Silva's, birthday. So, I spent the better part of the weekend celebrating with her. Anyway, tiny, implied lemon in this, but not the full thing. I know, we're such a tease. lol. Enjoy. Ja ne!

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Meanwhile, Ichigo was in what they called the living room. It had once been the chapel, with high vaulted ceilings and stained glass and ornate carvings that all looked eerily like either himself or his father. It had bothered him so much that as soon as he'd first seen it he'd decided that if the priests wanted someplace where they could come and pray to him—AKA talk with him—he'd make one. Thus stained glass had been replaced with clear, and long, warm curtains had been hung. Hard, wooden pews were replaced with cushions, couches and chairs. And the vaulted ceiling had been lowered through some careful magicking by Shiro, Aizen and Ulquiorra to create a loft space where meditation could still take place, but wouldn't be in the middle of things, nor have people's conversations interrupting them.

It was on one of these couches that Ichigo lay, holding his wallet, and staring up mournfully at a picture of himself, Shiro, Renji and Grimmjow from the year before. It had been the end of summer, just before the start of fall semester and they'd gone to the beach. Shiro had been burned to a crisp thanks to the sun. Renji'd gotten pinched by a crab. Grimmjow had been dunked by falling—'I was pushed damnit!'—off the dock. And Ichigo, himself, had wound up with sand in more places than he'd known he had. But all in all it was one of the best days of his life, because after that Grimmjow had taken him aside and asked to marry him. The engagement ring was a simple silver band, designed to keep things hidden and in secret, because they hadn't been ready to tell anyone yet, but before they could all of this nonsense with the King and the Four and everything had pushed it to the back burner. So, now, feeling more lonely than he had in years, Ichigo fingered the simple band he never took out of his wallet and gazed longingly at a time that he knew would never come again.

And then all of a sudden there was blue hair. On his wallet, in his face, all over the place—and it was a familiar situation. Before Grimmjow had gotten it cut for their beach trip—'Like fucking _hell _I'm keeping all this when it's gonna be _that fucking hot. _Who'd'ya think I am? _Renji?_'—it had, as it did now, reached his hips, and he frequently caused it to get in Ichigo's way like a soft blue curtain. The reason for this was the abrupt appearance of his cat on the back of the couch, perched delicately on all his paws.

"Mate. Come, nest with me." It wasn't a demand, but it wasn't quite a suggestion either.

Letting the folded leather cover most of his face, wide, lost, tearful eyes looked up at the face the King dreamt about more than saw these days. "Y-you aren't mad at me?" He hated how his voice wavered.

"Don't be silly. I love you." Conquest leaned down, kissing him gently, softly. With the sort of slow heat only he was capable of. "Gin said ya din't mean to," he murmured after the kiss ended. "An' tha' yer no' gonna do it again, if ya can help it. So it'd be stupid to be mad at'cha."

"B-but..." All of his precious control threatened to break. He'd just gotten to the point where he could sit quietly without things falling off of their shelves, or making the weather change. "Ok..."

The orangette's voice was small, but he got up carefully to avoid knocking into the feline. Then started off for their quarters, looking over his shoulder only once when he reached the door to their bedroom hoping that the offer hadn't just been made for nothing. He didn't think he could take it if his lover pulled away from him right now.

The panther had to shift when Ichigo's turn to look altered his stride—he was following so closely on his mate's heels, and walking on his back paws, that he nearly ran into him. He blinked at his mate and gave him a little smile, nuzzling his shoulder.

"Everything is better in the morning after nesting with your mate," the First assured confidently.

"Ok..." Ichigo actually turned around completely and looked up into the cerulean eyes he thought he knew so well. Fear lingered beneath the surface of his own gaze, but he wrapped his arms around his Consort's neck. "I...missed you, Grimm." He watched carefully for the feline's response.

Again with that strange name. Why did he keep calling for that 'Grimm' person? Conquest dismissed it in favor of comforting his mate, nuzzling and kissing him as he picked him up in his arms. He was going to tuck his heart into their nest and not come out until morning.

"I missed you, my love."

The orangette pulled back, "My love?" He echoed. "You never use nicknames like that. You've always called me 'Kitten' or...um..." He blushed deeply, because his blue-haired lover was NOT allowed to use the other one outside of the bedroom, "Strawberry. Are you ok?"

The feline tilted his head. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be? And can't I be allowed to get a little…stupid...and mushy," he flushed brightly, "after not seeing my mate for four months? I'd like to think I can be a stupid romantic sap just once," he pouted.

Now that Ichigo had said so, 'Kitten' sounded like a much better name to call his cherished lover.

Ichigo flushed deeper. "No, I guess not. It just caught me off guard. You argued with me so hard about the fact that you hated it when tough guys turned sappy just cuz they found somebody to love."

His infamous 'Grimmjow Grin™' returned for the first time in a long time and he kissed him again—this time hard and fierce, true to his nature, pulling the smaller body up against his own and taking possession.

"Don' get used ta it, Kitten," he purred after they broke for air, "I don' plan on bein' away from ya tha' long often."

That look made him feel about a million times better. "There it is. That's my Grimmjow." He dove in for another, more heated kiss.

Conquest's brief mental question of 'who the hell is _Grimmjow_' was immediately overridden by his mate's kiss, returning it with equal heat and fervor with his dominant nature thrown in on top as he manhandled his lover into their bed-nest.

Wrapping his legs around the blunette's waist, the King murmured against his lover's lips, "Take your human form...please? I wanna have you fuck the loneliness out of me."

Human form? Which human form? He'd had so many over the years… "I uh...don' think I can. The barbs are already out," he replied, making an excuse. It was true—the barbs on his length _were _already out, and it would be horrifyingly uncomfortable to shift to human form now, but not impossible.

Ichigo looked down, "...barbs?!" The look on his face was half intrigue, half concern. Then he looked back up. "Barbs." And a dangerous smile crossed his features. He practically purred the subtle order, "Fuck me, Grimmy. Show me what those barbs will do to my prostate."

The panther pushed the King down onto his back, grinning like the predator he was. "Now _that's _a Directive I c'n happily follow, Kitten," he purred. "You oughta issue more o' those."

His armor disappeared in a flash of light, leaving his very hard, visibly barbed cock ready to go as his claws made quick work of Ichigo's garb.

It was several hours, and several rounds, later, when Ichigo finally called a stop to the love-making. Apparently now, calling the blunette's name made him more interested in fucking the King senseless than anything else ever had. He'd screamed his lover's name with the first orgasm, and that had initiated a second round. Murmuring his favorite nickname had made the feline Horseman carry number two straight into number three, and then number four with hardly any time in between. By now, the orangette was so thoroughly ravished, aching and sweaty, with fluids pouring from his behind equally as congealing and cold as the ones on his belly, that he was sure if he wasn't already knocked up, that would have done it. And now, somewhere around round six—or was it seven? He'd lost count—the panther was mouthing his shoulder, purring and grinding against him.

"Grimm...I know we haven't been together for a while, but...can we not make up the whole four months in one night? Please"

His feline mate raised an eyebrow. "Wha', yer done this early? Ya ain't even gone cooked-noodle-limp yet," he teased.

He was faintly irritated by his mate's constant calling for this damn 'Grimm'. Did he not just fuck him eight times in a row so well his eyes crossed when he came? Was he not enough for his mate? He had to be. He nipped, licked, and nuzzled at his neck, tail curling contently at the man he loved.

"Heh...I'm exhausted. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in four months thanks to getting used to that purr you make when you're content, and for the last two weeks I've been hauled out of bed at dawn every morning to puke regardless of whether I've eaten anything the night before or not. So, how about next time, you carry the kid and I'll get to complain about not having sex a tenth or whatever round." Amusement shone in that tired smile, and though he wasn't exactly grinding against the attention, he certainly wasn't pulling away from it.

That was a good point. His mate was pregnant and shouldn't be unduly stressed. So he kissed him sweetly, pulling away and settling on his side, nipping and laving at his mating bite. "Fair 'nough, Kitten. Let's git some sleep, ne?"

Ichigo turned over, and curled into his Consort's shoulder with a small sigh. He linked his fingers with that strange, half-paw hand and rubbed his cheek against it. Then he held it close like a favored stuffed toy, and murmured, sleep already pulling at his mind, "I love you, Grimm."

That made the horseman's chest stutter and ache. And still his mate confused him for 'Grimm'. Was this stranger using an illusion or spell to make him believe that this Grimm and he were the same?

"I love you, Kitten," he murmured, burying his face in orange spikes. "Never fergit it."

In the morning…in the morning he would go hunting for this, this 'Grimm'.

The next day started as usual, but for one exception, when the King awoke to the pangs of nausea like clockwork, he immediately held out his hand and mumbled without fully waking up, "I wish I had a hot cup of that potion Shiro found for me from yesterday."

Reality rippled and the mug from yesterday appeared in his hand with the same foul-smelling, yet appetizing concoction in it. He downed it in one go, just like yesterday, and finally sat up completely to look around. The bed had been rearranged into a huge, bunched up nest at some point during the night, and his mate was conspicuously missing, but that wasn't too odd. The feline usually woke up first, and often went to clean up or search out something or another.

Unknown to his mate, said feline had gone hunting for this 'Grimm'. He hadn't found any strange scents or leads, so now, very frustrated, he was in the kitchen gnawing on a bit of breakfast. Ham, he thought, but he hadn't been paying the best attention and had just taken whatever the oven had cooked this morning.

Dressing for the day, Ichigo walked through the courtyard and into the common room once his stomach had settled enough for movement.

"Grimm?" He called, uncertain where the blunette had wandered off to, but slightly concerned. He tried to write it off as nerves having been separated for so long, but it niggled at the back of his head.

Conquest's ears flicked, but he didn't reply. He was rather hoping Grimm would answer his mate and come when called for a change, so the First could have a 'talk' with him.

Two more repetitions of the man's name without answer had the King scowling and his pace picked up, until he reached the kitchen, where he saw his lover at the table.

"There you are. Why didn't you answer me? I know you had to have heard me."

The panther gave him the blankest, most confused and frustrated look he'd ever worn, swallowing and shoving his plate aside. "Of course I heard'ja. Why would I answer yer call fer another man?"

"A-another...?" Ichigo's frowned deepened. "I wasn't calling for someone else. I was calling for you. Grimmjow." Was his lover under a spell that he couldn't hear properly?

The blunette grumbled and rubbed his temples. "No yer not. I dunno who th' fuck this 'Grimmjow' is, an' frankly I'm gettin' tired o' hearin' his name, but tha' ain't m'name, King."

"Y-yes, it is." The monarch stammered, blinking. "You're Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, my lover, my other half, the one who keeps me sane when Shiro's going off on his...well, not so stupid anymore...his tangents about magic and shit. You laugh with me, you've fought with me. Hell! You cried with me! After flunking out of school, and being locked in prison, and having to do God only knows what to make rent for the last three years, don't you dare sit there and tell me you aren't who I agreed to marry!" He fumbled with his wallet and slammed the ring down on the table.

He stared at the ring. Hard. The silver shone in his cerulean eyes, and he frowned as he reached out to touch it. The second he did, his pupils shrank to slits and he started to whimper, whining as he withdrew his hand to clutch as his head with both of them, his whine rising to a scream until he curled into a ball and fell silent and immobile. Frozen.

Ichigo's eyebrows arched up in fear, and he clutched his wallet to his chest. Had he issued a Directive? He hadn't felt the power surge he normally did, but he hadn't minced his words either, because it was all true. At least...he thought it was. He hadn't undone history had he? He bit his lip, and reached out tentatively to touch the rounded back of his lover.

"G-Grimm?"

There was no response for several long, frightening moments. "Git...g-git...A...Ai...Aiz-Aizen," he finally managed to force out, body still locked in a ball. The butterfly would know what to do. He would know what was wrong.

Unable to move, the King Called, terrified and using a Name he'd only ever use when this panicked, "Sousuke!"

Aizen appeared with a startled _pop! _stumbling a bit as he hit the floor, and looking highly alarmed. "Ichigo, what's the matter?"

The orangette simply pointed at the shivering, huddled ball that had been his lover...no, had been someone who he thought was his lover. His head was beginning to hurt, but his heart hurt more.

Aizen frowned, then picked the other up and pressed their foreheads together, looking into his mind. After a moment or two, he stumbled back and swore loudly.

"Fuck! He's gone and forgotten who he is!"

"Wh-which means what exactly?" Stumbling into a chair, Ichigo reached out a hand and the coffee pot poured a cup of the same concoction into the mug that appeared there, in spite of the fact that the liquid in the glass pitcher was actually coffee.

"It means when he Awakened, all of his human lives were shoved aside to make room for his role as Conquest, the First Horseman. As a result, these lives were never integrated into his memory and when he went back to work in that role, he forgot those lives and everything that happened in them. Including his most recent life—his life as 'Grimmjow'. His various lives are all fighting in his memory right now, struggling to be the one he remembers and draws on, and might I add Grimmjow is fighting quite viciously to get back to you, leaving him in this comatose state. I need Shiro for this spell, please summon him."

In the butterfly's arms, Grimmjow whimpered, eyes squeezing shut.

Ichigo sucked in a breath. He'd gained enough control that to summon, as he had Aizen, he needed to use given names, and well, Shiro was _very _picky about his given name. But Grimmjow needed him, and if what Aizen needed to help Grimmjow was for him to summon his twin, he'd do it, "Kenji"

Shiro was pulled into the kitchen in much the same way as Aizen, a rant already on his tongue. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAFTA TELL YA—!?" The orangette cut him off with a forceful grip on the albino's chin so that he had to look at Aizen and the feline. "Well, shit." Was all he said in response.

"I need the mind-separation spell." The Third explained quickly, setting the cat-who-would-be-Grimmjow in the middle of the kitchen floor once the table had moved out of the way. "I'll set up the spell circles, you look up the spell, we need to move fast before any one life has the chance to win and erase the others."

"Right." Shiro was gone again in an instant, and back with a subtle puff of sulfur-like smoke carrying a thick book opened to a page somewhere in the middle. "I need at least th' Diagram of Achilles an' th' Mantra of Osiris, but ya better include th' Ashvins as well. Karma only knows what kind o' mental soup that feline is carrying 'round an' I want as tight a control over this as possible." He only looked up then, "King, ya better step back. This is some heavy shit an' I don' want m' nephews exposed ta it."

The orangette complied, watching in awe a bit, as his twin dashed around the kitchen collecting herbs and spices that the King had previously only thought of as cooking ingredients.

Aizen's magic was laying out complicated runes and circles and patterns on the floor in a huge circle, surrounding them both with such rapidity it would be amazing if the reason for it wasn't so urgent and worrying. The panther could only rock where he was balled up, keening as his soul was batted between different sets of memories and his mind was torn through over and over.

The albino—no, the Mage watched until the circle was complete. This was his element, his job. He fixed things with the Court, medic, accountant, and psychologist in one—sort of. He nodded to Aizen and he brought the book up in front of his chest, the pages whirring open to the right spell. Then he began chanting in some language Ichigo thought he might understand if he listened harder but didn't try. The appliances all huddled on their counters, watching, as the lights dimmed around the room and a shaft of power illuminated the circle where Shiro stood over the black, white and blue feline with the hand not holding the book stretched out with the palm down. A wind blew within the circle and balls of light began to spiral out of the feline, pulling clumps of fur with them, leaving behind a very naked, very human Grimmjow.

He was still holding his head, rocking back and forth harder now, as Aizen's strong voice joined in with a second chant, in the same almost-familiar language, and he put his hand directly on the blunette's forehead. Both of their heads snapped back, eyes glowing with bright white light, mouths open in a soundless scream.

This was the important part, the climax of the spell. Shiro added his other hand in hovering over his focus, the book suspended in mid-air by the force of the power inside the circle. Both palms glowed brightly, forcing the memories to organize themselves like so many soldiers on a battlefield. The spell grew stronger, heavy with power, and the words became more jumbled as they echoed through the fabric of reality. Reaching a fever pitch, amid the chaos, Shiro's voice rang out, clear and as forceful as Ichigo's, in a solid Directive.

_ "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, remember yourself."_


	20. Lost in Conquest: Chapter 5

**A/N:** Oh my gosh, minna, I am SO SO SO sorry this took so long! TT_TT I was down with my surgery and complications and then bronchitis! x.x I am literally just now getting back on my feet. The good news is I've been writing while I was laid up, so I've got some really juicy stuff in the works. The bad news is I've had absolutely no energy for editing the entire time, so it'll be awhile before I can really start posting any of it. In the meantime though, here's this. Thank you all for not killing me after such a mean cliffhanger! Much love to everyone! Oh, and smut! I hope it makes up for the absence! Enjoy! Ja ne!

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Both Horsemen shuddered and, as one, screamed as the Directive took hold and forcibly brought the King's Consort back to himself, Aizen being thrown from his mind and soul to fly out of the circle and across the room, wings bending out of shape and his glasses shattering after falling off his nose.

The large man swayed for a moment before collapsing, the magic-made circles all around him fading.

Shiro, panting heavily himself, just barely caught the book before it dropped onto the blunette's pretty spikey head, and stumbled back a half-step. His second Directive, and the only one he actively knew about. It took a bit out of him. As soon as it was safe for him to move again, he sank into the chair where Ichigo had been enjoying his tea, and the coffeepot tentatively brought the Mage a cup of the steaming caffeinated beverage along with a chocolate muffin for both protein and endorphins.

"Ya c'n come back in now, King."

The orangette hesitated, but complied, stopping just behind his twin, watching his lover.

Aizen slid to the floor with a groan, and that seemed to trigger Grimmjow, because he rose slowly to his feet, looking around in confusion until his eyes landed on his Ichi. He immediately went to him, grabbed him around the waist, and kissed him hard and fiercely. This, at least, he knew. This was familiar. This was _his_.

Ichigo squeaked, kissing back but pulling back almost at the same time. "Grimm?" He was almost afraid to ask.

He gave a little grin. "Yep. Sorry fer bein' a fuckin' idiot fer th' past couple days." He held his husband against his chest, nuzzling into his hair. "At least I never fergot th' most important part. Th' part where yer mine an' I'm yers."

Here came the part that really had the King's heart clenching, "A-and...do you...I mean...the...um..." His eyebrows drew together and he bit his lip, his hands together over his belly button. His voice was soft, almost pitiful, but he had to make sure that Grimmjow knew for a fact, "I didn't cheat on you."

"Okay," he said simply, hand coming down to rub his belly. "Then I guess it must'a been a magic thing," he added, nuzzling into his lover's hair again.

"I guess..." Ichigo tried to lean into that comfort, he really did, but the thing just kept circling in his thoughts. "I've held off saying this because I didn't want to know without you, but," He drew back again to look up into his lover's eyes. "I wish...I wish I knew how this happened."

Between them played the memory of Shiro's wish, his Directive, as he looked at Gin's new kits, then the image flashed over to Ichigo's stomach, where an embryo spontaneously formed and then divided into two because of the demand that the heir to the King's line be a twin.

"You!" Ichigo wasn't sure whether he wanted to glare or pounce his brother.

Shiro, who was nibbling on his muffin, looked up, wide-eyed, and mumbled around said muffin, "Me?"

"If I wasn't so happy about this I'd hurt you. Next time you decide to use the words 'I wish', dear brother, kindly talk to me about it first?!"

"Sure." The albino smirked.

The King's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Guess ya aren't th' only one Cosmos listens ta anymore." Shiro snickered, barely containing his amusement.

Grimmjow chuckled, kissing Ichigo to distract him and rubbing his stomach with both hands. "Well, 'e did only wish for your happiness," he purred, nuzzling into his mate's neck.

He did love him so dearly, had missed him horribly, and then he hadn't remembered who he was and had caused his mate distress. Though the fucking him stupid all night long, he liked that.

Ichigo huffed, but leaned back into the warmth, strength and comfort of his mate. All at one he looked up, "No more four month assignments. I'm grateful for your help with War but from now on..._Grimmjow..._I want you home with me every night. At least until the twins are born, deal?"

Shiro took another bite of his muffin, grabbed his coffee, and Aizen, and hauled them both out of the kitchen faster than anyone could blink, grateful to the First for saving his hide. The last thing he wanted to do, even when not on his brother's shit list, was intrude on his King reconnecting with his Consort, and the tone in Ichigo's voice...? Reconnecting was going to happen in more than one way if the albino read it correctly.

Grimmjow blinked at him and kissed him deeply. "Deal," he purred, hands coming up under the orangette's rear to hold him against his body, eyes closing. His. This was all his.

Ichigo dove into the kiss with a moan, grinding his hips against his lover's torso when he wrapped his legs around the blunette's waist. He leaned his forehead against Grimmjow's, "Wanna see a trick I learned?"

He practically giggled and without waiting for the other man's response, he Blinked them back into their bedroom with a small puff of sulfurous smoke, just like Shiro had done earlier. Then he was all over his Consort, kissing, licking, biting, sucking. They may have had sex nine times the night before, but this time, he knew who was holding him, who was touching him, and who was on the other end of his soul.

Grimmjow moaned in some surprise as he was magically manhandled by his mate, shuddering and kissing back just as hard with a purr and a swift grope.

Feeling the skin under his fingers, tasting it, and really inhaling Grimmjow's scent seemed to flip a switch in Ichigo, because now, he couldn't keep himself from exploring every inch of his lover as best he could. He used his weight to topple them back onto the bed, where he sat back to discard the robe he wore, revealing that he had nothing on underneath. This brought their arousals into contact and the orangette moaned before diving back into a frantic round of kisses.

Grimmjow had no idea why his mate was so enthusiastic, but like hell was he complaining! He moaned again, rubbing up against his mate, purring and twitching, kneading at the bed.

"You...Mmm...taste...Mmm...so good." Ichigo panted between kisses.

This was what homecoming had been supposed to be like. The orangette trailed a line of nipping, and sucking down the hard planes of Grimmjow's chest, running his tongue along every dip and curve, tasting everything until he came to the blue curls that had astounded him the first time he'd ever seen them. He nuzzled his way all the way around the hard shaft, straining above his line of vision. Then with precision and delicacy, he trailed up the length to suckle on the tip, drinking down the precome like it was the nectar of life.

The Consort hissed in pure pleasure, heavy thighs twitching, toes curling as his eyes fluttered shut. "Ooh...oh Ichi...fuck, fuck, I thought ya…" he hissed, "di'n't like ta..."

"Dunno..." The orangette sucked him down and came back up to clean off his saliva. "You just taste amazing. Like...peaches...no...raspberries." He chuckled, slinking back up his lover's body, "Blue raspberries." He licked his lips and latched onto the lobe of the closest ear, moaning and grinding his groin against the other's.

Grimmjow's hips bucked and he moaned hard and loud as his hand went looking for and seized Ichigo's dick to start stroking. "Well then, 'M glad I do taste like whatever I taste like 'cuz fuck I been missin' yer mouth!"

The sound that came from the King was like nothing he'd ever made before, and it was downright sinful, like the worst of the sluts that hung around campus, enough to make a hardened sex demon blush. His hips bucked lightly, adding to his lover's touch, as his fingers curled on the blunette's chest. Grimmjow ducked down and sucked at his nipples as he continued to stroke, growling and purring at him, toes curling. For all the Gods, his mate felt so good!

"Ah...G-grimm! That's so...s-sensitive!" He stuttered, voice hiccupping with every brush of that tongue across his nipple.

The King may have initiated this frantic pace but now he was becoming thoroughly undone. The blunette purred into the sensitive flesh. He was good with that, really. Making his mate come undone and go mad was something he adored, and he rutted against him happily.

"W-want you...in...ah...inside...please?" Ichigo panted, pressing himself down into his lover, begging for every touch and barely able to hold himself back, but gripped with the pleasure of truly being with his Consort.

Grimmjow growled playfully and summoned the slick. Now that he had his powers back it didn't take him but a curl of his fingers and a string of neon blue energy. He slathered his fingers to start spreading it inside his husband.

"Oh...oh...oh! Grrrrrimmmmm..." Ichigo moaned, grinding back against those thick digits, his cock leaking and toes and fingers curling. He needed this, needed it like a drowning man needed air.

The larger male's teeth left his nipples to attach to his throat, fingers coating and stretching before he slapped the leftover lubricant on his dick and pulled his lover into position. Wanton little whore that he had become, Ichigo almost didn't let the blunette control the pace. Of course, this was usually the part where he deliberately forced himself to stop and got the jute cords out, but this time...there wasn't time. He needed Grimmjow inside of him NOW! He pressed back against the blunt head of his lover's cock, his stretched entrance kissing it and trying to swallow the length before they were both ready.

The blunette purred and growled and thrust inside in a single long push. Then he kissed his mate, petting his hair and sides. He loved him so much. He would worship his mate…soon. Not just now. But soon, very soon.

Grinding down without waiting to adjust, Ichigo had never felt so full, so complete, so perfect during their joinings before, even after Awakening. This time, it was just so much more. The orangette dove into that sinful mouth again, doing what he could to try and let Grimmjow lead, but failing fairly spectacularly due to how desperately he wanted the larger man. But the blunette didn't care—it was always better when his mate participated. He held onto his neck hard, lovingly starting to thrust at a hard, quick, animalistic pace.

Ichigo met those thrusts, grunting and moaning with every breath. Small sounds of pleasure, breathed directly into the larger man's ear, as his hands curled over his lover's pectorals for leverage, driving their pace higher. A hand on his hips helped him thrust faster and harder, growling uncontrollably as he heard hissed love-talk in his ear and thick, deliciously calloused fingers stroked his cock between them.

"Mmm gonna...oh...Grimm...it's so...Ngh." He alternatively impaled himself and thrust into his lover's hand. This all-consuming desire had him driving them toward climax at a break-neck pace.

Grimmjow wasn't much better, mashing his prostate with the head of his cock as his hips came off the bed on each thrust, hammering him.

"F-fill me, Grimm." Ichigo panted. He was so close, so...desperately...close

With a roar into his neck, the blunette thrust as deep as possible and came violently, doing just that, toes curling and teeth biting down. His mate!

Teeth! That was it! An electric shock ripped through his body, and he erupted between them, ropes of thick, white spunk coating their chests at the same time as his inner muscles milked his lover for all he was worth. He panted heavily, cooing and making noises of contentment against his husband's neck.

When Grimmjow let go and licked his lips, he was panting. Uncontrollably so. He collapsed onto the bed, eyes slamming shut as his hands kneaded like the content cat he was. "Fuccccckkk Ichi...love you…so much."

"I love you too, Grimm...an' I think...ah..." Ichigo couldn't help the way his hips hitched, "I think...if...they weren't already...I think this solidifies it. They're yours now, no matter how they were conceived at first." He purred, burying his face in the crook of his Consort's neck like it was specifically designed for him.

The First cradled his lover happily, petting his back and ass. "Even if they hadn'ta been, even if they'da been _Shiro's_, I'd love 'em regardless," he purred in promise.

The King yawned, hugely. "I know. But I'm glad they're yours anyway. I wouldn't wanna go through this with anybody else."

"You think it'll be that bad now that we can control the mornin' sickness?" A single cerulean eye peered down at the form collapsed on his chest.

"I hope not." Amber rolled up sleepily with a small smile.

The lovers chatted for a while, reconnecting a more personal manner, but outside the North building, a sly creature smiled, proud of what he'd accomplished. Sure, most of the heavy work had been handled by the Mage, but…he'd done his fair share too.

"That wasn't nice, love." The rumbling voice that could only be his lover broke through his thoughts.

"Mah. What wasn't nice?" The kitsune grinned, tilting his head in an attempt at innocence.

"Lacin' th' coffeepot wit'cher love dust. Th' two o' them have enough issues wi'out ye interferin'." The redhead tried to be stern, he really did, but that fox-man was just too cute.

"I dunno. Ya enjoy it when I use it on ya." Gin purred, coming over to wrap himself around his mate.

"Yeah, but tha's diff'rent. C'mon, let's leave 'em ta their bondin'." Renji scooped up his mate and Flit them back to their own private quarters.

Unbeknownst to either couple, a pair of sad, sienna eyes watched them both from a respectable distance. He sipped his tea, fluttered his wings and nodded to himself. Just before leaving his cocoon, he'd located where he needed to go—a small town in the deciduous North-East of a country called America. It would be several years before he could make his move, but at least he knew where he was going now, and he knew a name—Shinji Hirako. Maybe…maybe this time…

**End Part 3**


	21. Butterfly: Chapter 1

**A/N:** Konnichiwa, minna! Here we are again, the beginning of the next part. I suppose you could call them arcs. lol. We get a little freaky in this, not this chapter but a little later in the arc. Nothing too major in this one though, just some average bullying violence and the mention of past abuse. Fairly typical high school BS. Also, the title comes from a poem of the same name. Unfortunately I have lost the link to where I found it and no longer remember the name of the author, but it was a powerful poem. It inspired a lot of how this arc plays out. Go read it. Anyway, enjoy! Ja ne!

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**Part 4: Butterfly, We Were Meant To Be**

Twenty-three-years-old. First day of Sophomore year, and abso-fucking-lutely nothing had changed. Still the freaky, odd-ball, with the sexual predator grin and fucked up interests in a body entirely too skinny to be attractive. He sighed, the same thoughts he always had running through his head. A summer at home with his mom and sister had been great, though being in that tiny Appalachian town again was like the first day of kindergarten all over again. Only this time the people around him already knew he was fucked up and weird. Talking to fucking butterflies for God's sake, how much more weird could he get? Oh right…a certain propensity for saying the wrong thing and being attracted to the wrong gender for a small town like that. It'll be better, she said. There will be more people who like the same stuff, she said. The young man snorted, his blond, straw-straight hair blowing out of his face, and he grimaced at the campus, a hand wrapped around his book-bag strap, the other in the pocket of his skinny plaid jeans.

The jocks tossed a football around near the reflecting pond and just outside the door to the quad, like a pack of guard dogs intimidating anyone who wanted to enter. Their cheerleader girlfriends perched like a flock of jaybirds possessively on the fence that kept drunken idiots from falling into said reflecting pond. To the other side the computer nerds were chattering as they and the bookworms collectively entered the library-slash-computer science building. The beatnik/hippie/goths spread out across the lawn between the two pretending to be too cool and complaining about the sun, but doing nothing to get out of it. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the band geeks practicing. And the smattering of others in clusters of threes and fours dotted the pathways from where he stood at the edge of the parking lot that separated the campus from the town that had grown like a barberry hedge around the school. All in all, it meant yet another attempt at navigating the minefield of cliques and gangs that he'd been sure a year ago he'd left behind in high school. So much for that idea.

Before he could do anything he was shoved. The big burly guy laughing when he had to flail to keep his balance and his bag went flying, spraying papers and pencils everywhere. Thankfully his books were still within, but his drawings, doodles of men with huge butterfly wings and butterflies with the features of human men, scattered about the path like so many leaves in the wind. He started to snarl at the behemoth but bit his tongue, knowing it wouldn't do any good, and began picking up his shit.

"What, bug-boy? Ain't gonna say nothin'?" The meat head sneered, and the blond ignored him. So he turned to his friends and laughed, "Look, boys, the buggy thought ta show his face again! He must not've learned nothin' last year. Yer kind ain't welcome here, faggot."

The foot that attempted to plant itself in his ribs as he bent to gather his pencils was easily avoided but it turned out his antagonist's friends decided to ring him, throwing punches and kicks in his direction. Not all of them were hard enough to hurt. Being beaten and outcast most of his life had given him, quite literally, a thick skin. So, the blows he couldn't avoid, he absorbed, until the asshole caught him across the temple. This sent him sprawling on the pavement, and he just lay there, praying the hazing would stop. As though it was an answer to his prayers, the wind changed, bringing the scent of wildflowers, and the thug sniffed.

"He ain't worth it. Let's go get some burgers."

The gang moved off and Shinji hunched over his bag. His drawings were ruined now, but that was fine. The same faceless man that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember would be easy to re-capture. He could feel the beginnings of a black eye, blood dripped down his face from where the bastard's punch had split his eyebrow, and he'd bitten his tongue at some point. Not to mention the scattering of other, more minor bruises he could feel all over his body. He sighed, yup, brand new school year, just like high school.

He moved off to his poli-sci class, on the second floor of the computer science building due to the heavy amount of current events needed to complete the course. He'd just stepped into the lecture hall when he froze. There he was. The tall brunette that had transferred in from Japan in the middle of last year. Chiseled features, toned, wavy brown hair with that stubborn stray bang that either didn't want to stay tucked back or was deliberately curled forward, and eyes...deep, wise, devour-the-soul, chocolate eyes. The blond had no idea what the man's major was, or why he was even there since he looked to be about thirty, but he had been in every single one of Shinji's classes. And it appeared that would be the case again this year, too. Though Shinji had no courage to actually go up to the other male and talk to him, he was compelled to watch him, and the butterfly-man in his dreams had begun to take on his classmate's appearance. He had it bad. He didn't even know the other's name and he was dreaming about him. So, watching the brunette reading from across the room, Shinji was spell-bound.

Until he was shoved for the second time that day by the same Neanderthal who'd led his gang in accosting the blond. "Move it, fairy-pants. Yer floodin' the hallway wit'cher drool."

He glared, but wiped his mouth unconsciously anyway as the rest of the asshole's gang also shoved their way inside, jostling the blond back and forth with every person who passed him. He was delayed long enough that the only seat in the room was dead-center, front row, AKA 'the splash zone', where Professor Marechiyo's habit of spitting when he got excited about something usually landed. He groaned but took his seat. Class was going to be hell, especially since Professor Marechiyo generally insisted on his students maintaining the same seating arrangement all semester. He'd learned that the hard way last year, when he'd had the flamboyantly egotistical instructor for Economics 101.

Abruptly, nearby, out of the splash zone, and conveniently next to that handsome older boy, a seat opened up. The student had checked his syllabus and realized he was in the wrong class, then bolted out of the room to try and make it to the correct one.

He knew he shouldn't. He _knew _it. But he damn well couldn't help himself. A year. A year of watching him invisibly, of seeing him every day, of drowning in his aura and scent. That was hard. Harder was controlling himself when his reincarnated Key was harmed. The first time he'd seen him hit by one of those thrice-cursed jocks, his eyes had dilated, his wings had dyed dark red, his claws had burst through his fingers and if Ulquiorra and Grimmjow hadn't been with him to search out the one he'd come to know and love as Shinji Hirako, he would have torn the foolish mortals to shreds. As it was, between the two of them they had barely held him back. Grimmjow's ribs were still tender even after Ichigo had reversed the damage.

Still, he could not resist opening a chair next to him and enticing his mate over. After a year, he had reached the end of his patience. It was time to really get to know each other and no better time to start than as soon as possible.

Shinji looked up from his notebook, where once again he was sketching, as the boy rushed out of the room. The brunette beckoned him over, dark brown eyes seeming to glitter for just a moment before returning to calm. Glancing at the door, then at the seat vacated, the blond bolted, double-quick out of the splash zone. He had all of two seconds to get there before Professor Marechiyo burst through the door to his office with a large grin and a loud greeting.

"Welcome, peons, to Political Science! If you survived my Economics, I'm sure you only did so because of my amazing skills at teaching something to your brainless selves. Don't expect me to be that easy on you this term. Not a single one of you is has even half the potential I had when I sat in those seats." The instructor continued on a long-winded rant, punctuated by proclamations of just how awesome he was, and thoroughly coating the seat Shinji had just vacated, for the next several minutes.

In his new seat, the blond chanced a look at the amazing male next to him. He flushed deeply pink and immediately went back to sketching. When the syllabus was passed around for everyone to sign and take a copy, he had to twist to take it from the girl behind him, leaving visible for all the world to see the intensely detailed image of the man with the butterfly wings reaching out of the page as if to caress the audience.

Aizen couldn't stop himself from reaching out to touch it. It looked, so much like...like him. Like his _true _self. His fingers, though light, left telltale smudges when he quickly withdrew his hand as Shinji came back around. He had already tuned out the worthless professor—he knew more than that puffed-up plebian could even begin to conceive. However, being seen touching his sketches, which so many others had ravaged and destroyed, would not endear him to his mate.

Shinji frowned at the place where the design was blurred. He didn't remember doing that, but he tilted his head, first one way, then the other. All at once, he reached out and duplicated the smudge on the opposite side of the drawing, making the edges of the creature's wings appear to be fluttering, or possibly like there was dust floating free of the softly swirling appendages. He smiled, and almost signed it, but was cut off by the obnoxious voice of his professor.

"Shinji Hirako! Well, well, well. Drawing in my class again, I see."

Thick, oiled-soft fingers clenched the edge of the sketch and tore the page from the book so he could hold it up to his face, which was just as oily. The blond cringed, unconsciously trying to sink into his chair as the instructor sneered at it. The black-haired balding man shook his head, and shoved the artwork back down onto the desk, further smudging the soft pencil. As the hefty male turned to make his way back up to the front of the classroom, most of the class snickered. The ones who remembered him from the year before sneered, whispering behind their hands about the way he stood out before.

"Just make sure you pay attention to me this term. I don't care how talented you are, if you're in my class, you obviously can't stack up to me."

Shinji wished he could fall into the ground and disappear.

That was _it_, he had sat quietly through this pompous ass's class without saying a damn word last year, but for the love of the Heirs he _was not going to keep his mouth shut now_. Not when the fucker insulted his mate! He stood up, and his eyes were hard. Cold. Angry. His voice, on the other hand, was silky. Smooth. Pleasant even. "I do hate to interrupt, _Professor_," in spite of the silk, the word was dripping in sarcasm, "but it has been scientifically proven that for active minds, drawing, sketching, doodling, and scribbling cause significant memory improvement by causing them to associate the auditory information they take in to images or feelings. The more associations, the easier it is to remember."

His eyes were dilating. This man's mind was fucking _sludge_, but he would not make fun of his mate again, even if he had to Imprint his will upon him. "Just as you remember perfectly every detail of your brother humiliating you in front of your entire college class during your first semester, don't you, _Professor_." This last was added in a low voice, with vicious surgical precision to hurt the man, not meant for the class to hear. Except for Shinji, who was so close there was no avoiding him hearing the meticulously-aimed barb.

Shinji and the other students that were one desk away from the handsome brunette all gasped, while the instructor fish-mouthed for a moment. Then he cleared his throat, composing himself. "Yes, well, genius tends to draw in genius. I am not at all surprised that Mr. Hirako would doodle in my class, nor that he would find a defender in yourself, Mr. Aizen."

The teacher retreated quickly, and Shinji stared, while all around them whispers carried both the truth and the implications of such an action from their cluster of seats to the far side of the room where the jocks who had delivered the first of this year's hazing on him were sitting. Glares from the small-minded males cut across the room, and whispers headed back about how in trouble both boys were now going to be. It took nearly fifteen minutes for Professor Marechiyo to regain control of the class, and by then he had nearly lost all of his temper, assigning them mountains of reading work and research to be done before the next class in three days. Then he dismissed them and it was a stampede to get out of the lecture hall so each and every one of those buzzing dayflies could be the first in their respective cliques to share this juicy gossip.

Shinji still stared. He hadn't even bothered to write down what he needed to have completed. He'd be reading the textbook anyway. But the boy...Aizen?...had stood up for him. Spoken out against the teacher for him. He must be one of those ass-kissers, right? It couldn't possibly be because of Shinji himself. He was sure of it. Nobody stood up for him. Ever. It just didn't happen.

Aizen didn't even get off his chair, merely turned and picked up the ruined portrait. "I can't believe how badly he damaged this," he murmured with genuine regret. "Dear Abyss. Does the man bathe in oil instead of water? It was so lifelike," he mourned.

With that delicate little bit of smudging, it really _had _looked so real, so accurate...He returned it to Shinji's book with a deep sigh and turned, giving a bit of an embarrassed blush.

"I'm sorry, I went off on a tangent and didn't even introduce myself. My name is, as you heard, Aizen. Aizen Sousuke, or, I suppose, Sousuke Aizen in English." He offered his hand with more grace and poise than he felt in his heart. "And you're Hi- err, Shinji Hirako?"

Shinji took the offered hand, feeling like he was dreaming. His mouth had gone dry. "Y-yeah. Shinji Hirako. After my dad. He was...uh...Japanese. A-and don't...I mean, about the picture...I...I'm used to drawing him."

He realized he was still shaking the man's hand, and quickly withdrew himself. He rushed to gather his things together, his nerves making his hands shake. He knocked over the chair to the desk, and dropped his sketchbook. Once again the drawings, in every media he could carry with him, spilled out across the floor. Dozens of images, all of them meticulously done with intense details so real it looked like the creature would jump off the page, and most of them were in some state of being ruined. Water spots, wrinkles, tears, smudges. Almost all of them had been partially destroyed. The blond's hand shot out to try and catch them but each and every one slipped through his fingers.

"Oh goodness, here, I'll help," Aizen said, laying his hands on Shinji's hips and lifting him onto the desk, telling him, "You just sit here and get all your things together while I collect these lovely, if damaged, art pieces."

His voice was dark and sweet, almost seductive, though he didn't mean to be. He then bent and started to pick up each sheet of paper one by one, his lovely muscled ass on display in his customary dress slacks. When he'd gathered them all, he straightened up again and brought them back to Shinji.

All the blond could do was blink, accepting his precious drawings when they were offered. "Th-thank you. I...uh...why are you talking to me?" He flushed deeply. He sucked royally at conversations with new people. "Wait...I mean...uh..."

The brunette chuckled and said, gently. "I think I know what you mean. I've been noticing the way people treat you and I find it atrocious. I want to change it. You're a wonderful artist, and an amazingly cheerful person considering how often life throws irritating little shits in your path. I don't want them to kill that part of you. Well, that and a purely selfish reason," he added with a little grin and a little eyebrow wriggle, "I find you rather attractive and I couldn't wait any longer to make a move."

It took all of a moment for the mask to slide over his face, and Shinji grinned, hopping off the desk. He looked up at the brunette with the kind of seduction that he used on those he wanted to keep at arms' length. His voice was teasing, and carried a note of humor that didn't quite cover the fact that he meant the exact opposite of what he said.

"And here I thought ya were blind."

Though his grin stretched from ear to ear, his eyes remained hard. In fact, harder than they had been during that interlude where he'd been wide open. Internally he was berating himself for even allowing that much of his normal facade to fall away. Then he was twirling with his backpack and sketchbook and strutting out of the room. Being that close to his crush was difficult to begin with, but to hear words that he was sure were simply platitudes to try and set him up, he couldn't bear it. He had to get away and find some flowers. He had things on his chest he had to vent, and to do that he needed to find a place that reminded him of the field behind his home in that small town where he'd grown up talking to butterflies in all kinds of weather, because that field always had butterflies, even in the middle of winter.

"Wait!"

God damn it, where did his usual charm go? Oh right, directly out the window the second he got within touching distance of his mate. He carried nothing—he never did—so it was relatively easy to scramble after him, so fast he must have Flit for a moment, because the next thing he knew he was running directly into him and tripping them both up. He instinctively tucked the smaller body into his own and turned so his own back hit the floor first, cursing viciously in German when he felt his illusion-covered wing joints crunch.

"Shit, sorry, Shinji, I didn't mean to knock you over. Are you alright?" Wing joints could regrow—he hadn't hurt his mate, had he?!

This was not a promising start. Damn it! He needed his usual charms, but he _refused _to use those parlor tricks on his mate. He didn't like his mate hiding from him. Though for a human it was a remarkably thorough illusion, he was against the Illusory Master. Aizen saw through it like paper, saw to the hurt and anger beneath. He couldn't stand to let it fester and grow.

The blond blinked down at the taller male. Then he was back up on his feet in a quick jump with the flash of that same smile, though the corner ticked a little. "O' course."

He stepped over Aizen, grabbed his sketchbook for a third time from the ground, and tucked the thing into his book-bag. He really should have learned long ago to do that every time he stood up, but he always forgot. And he fought down the irritated scowl that threatened to break his mask. So, to cover the imperfections in his stance, he flipped his pageboy-length hair with the hand that wasn't slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Dunno why ya wanna follow me, but if that pompous windbag is th' same as last year, we've got a shitton o' homework ta do b'fore Thursday. So, I'm headin' out ta git started. An'...heh...if ya wanna avoid rumors, ya probably should cover that up a bit better. People don't like fairies 'round here."

Aizen's heart stopped. Fairy?! _He could see_?!


	22. Butterfly: Chapter 2

**A/N:** First, I'm sorry to anybody who likes the antagonist here, I had to make someone the villain. XD Secondly, kudos and love to anyone who can guess who the unnamed characters are in this chapter. There are 3. Two are directly spoken to, and one is mentioned in narration. Best of luck, and enjoy! Ja ne!

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Both hands darted up to his head—to his _feelers _since his wings were flattened against his skin under his shirt—and pressed them down into his hair nervously as he also rose to his feet. "Cover…cover up what, exactly?"

He couldn't quite keep the waver from his tone. If Shinji could already see him, see the _real _him, and was rejecting him...for the love of the King, let him be wrong for once in his life.

"Yer preference." The blond frowned, "Oi, did I headbutt ya?"

He felt his own head. It wouldn't have been the first time that he'd done something with his skull and not felt it. His mother chalked it up to his habit of sitting upside down on the couch whenever he was watching TV. All the blood rushing to his head made his vision go fuzzy, which meant real life looked more like the images in his dreams, but his mom said that it had made his skull so thick that he could crack concrete.

The brunette relaxed and breathed, letting go of his poor feelers. Oooh, he'd need to straighten those out later, they were all bent in the middle. "Oh,_ that…_well I don't give a shit who knows my preference," he said with a little sniff. "If they don't like it, they can go suck rotten turtle eggs. And you didn't headbutt me, it was the concrete," he assured, rubbing his now-throbbing temples—the drawbacks of sensitive feelers..."But, er, about the—did you say pompous windbag? Most fitting…I have memorized the text so I don't have to listen to a word the foul narcissist says. Might I offer my brain for your picking and we can do the assigned work together?"

Shinji desperately tried not to choke on his own tongue, leaning heavily on his persona as a flirt and a playboy, "Aww, cutey, brawn _and _brains, how sweet. But seriously," he cocked his hip, smirking with more confidence than he really felt, "ya should care a little more 'bout yer rep. Ya can't jus' go askin' anybody ta be yer study partner. If ya aren't careful, y'ill wind up wi' only that option, an' trust me when I say ya don' wanna be stuck wi' me."

That was something of a lie, because very few people were smarter or better academically than Shinji at that dinky back-water college, but he knew the second that the handsome other found out about his habits, he'd turn tail. It really was for the best if the older male attached himself to someone who could actually be seen in public without risk of repercussions.

Aizen raised an eyebrow, some of his usual poise returning. He reached out and felt Shinji's forehead with the back of his hand, then frowned and mock tsked. "Nope, no fever...so you're not ill. That must mean you're trying to pull one over on me. I would say you were being stupid, but I know for a fact you're much too intelligent. Therefore," he folded his arms over his chest, "you must be trying to trick me into choosing an inferior study partner. I am...very selective of whom I desire to keep company with, Shinji. Generally speaking, I have little tolerance for the unintelligent; I therefore search out the smartest people I can find, and choose from that small pool. You are the only person on this campus," in all honesty on this continent, but he wasn't going to say that, "I am interested in keeping company with. The rest of this university can go _schtup _itself."

Uncertain whether the tall brunette was confused or being absolutely honest, Shinji couldn't come up with a snarky comment. So, he shrugged and turned towards the on-campus coffee shop. "I dunno 'bout you, but I can't digest anythin' Prof. Mary comes up with, without caffeine. If yer comin', c'mon. Th' sooner we git outta th' open the—"

In taking that first step, he was cut off by the wall of muscle in his way. "Well, well, well. If it ain't th' fairy. What's this? Yer infectin' th' other students now? Thought we told ya that yer kind weren't welcome here. That means whatever cooties ya used ta spread yer d'sease, ya need ta git rid of it. Can't have ya turnin' others fruity. Next thing m' boys an' me'll know we'll be in th' locker room an' yer cooties'll make it imposs'ble ta change b'fore th' game."

Meatlug poked a fat finger into Shinji's already bruised shoulder.

"Look, Ginjou, I don't want trouble. I just wanna get my coffee an' get home ta study. Can I do that this time? Please?" He tried to sound bored, but really the last thing he wasn't to do was risk his crush falling under those thick, simian-like fists.

"Y'hear that, boys? Th' fairy 'jus' wants 'is coffee'." The gang jeered and laughed, Ginjou pushed him again. "I dun' remember tellin' ya that ya could buy anythin' from here. Who knows, yer gay might rub off on yer money."

"Shinji-san has not 'infected' me with anything," Aizen growled and beyond his control, brown irises turned to feral slits as his claws came out of his fingernails in preparation for the battle he could already feel coming. "Homosexuality is not a _disease_. It cannot be transmitted through contact and it is not an airborne virus like the flu. And if Shinji-san wants to get some caffeine before going home to study, he can damn well get some," his voice was almost a hiss. "I do not suffer fools lightly, Kuugo, and you have just displayed an ignorance level so high I am tempted to rearrange your organs in an attempt to see if perhaps your liver has more capable intelligent functions than your _brain_."

After his Shinji nearly leaving him, he was already on edge, and this just pushed him closer to stooping to physical violence. He preferred to use his words, mind and illusions if he could, but for anyone this stupid, he had no compulsions about throwing away his morals to beat them into a bloody pulp.

"Oi. So ya are a fuckin' fairy, jus' like th' other one, Jappy?" Ginjou sneered, puffing out his chest. "Figures. Pretty boy like you? Bet all yer lookin' fer here is a piece o' tail ya c'n bang in th' Stacks."

The rest of his gang, five other equally burly, thick-headed males ranging from nineteen to twenty-five, joined in jeering Aizen in all ways from his sexuality to his appearance to his heritage, as they not-too-subtly formed a ring around the pair. Cracking knuckles and scuffing shoes were heard as others rolled their shoulders, all limbering up for what they hoped would be an epic beating. Shinji looked around at them, his back to Aizen, and shivered slightly. He'd faced this group more times than he could count and he really didn't want to see their brass knuckles and steel-toed boots pounding into the handsome male who'd only made the mistake of talking to him.

"Give it a rest, Ginjou. He's got nothin' ta do with this." The blond insisted.

"Fuck that, fudgepacker. He stepped b'tween me an' my fun. He's gotta pay fer bein' that stupid." The burly brunette sneered again, the sunlight glinting off the silver cross hanging around his neck.

Aizen counted himself lucky that his back was to his mate because he couldn't stop the flicker of his illusion for a few moments if he tried. He smiled, and it was not, exactly, a smile. It was more like a Grimmjow Grin™ combined with a Gin Smirk™ with a mouthful of shark teeth thrown in. Every tooth was deadly sharp, and the corners of his mouth stretched further than any human's ever should. It was a frightening thing, but they'd done it. They had successfully riled him. Woken _it _up. His demonic side, the embodiment of violence, was up and eager to show these foolish mortals what a man of his caliber could do when pressed.

He reached forward, almost too fast to see, and took hold of that cross with a silent reinforcement spell put into place to make sure when he made his next move the chain it hung on wouldn't snap.

"Stupid, eh? Fairy? Lookin' fer tail?"

His voice grated like a rusty hinge as his cultured manners fell away. They were wasted on the likes of these. No, this lot deserved every ounce of human street rat he had. He yanked on the cross, hard, so hard the taller man was forced to bend if he didn't want to get choked as the metal of the chain bit into his skin.

"If Ah'm th' stupid one, chil', how'z it yer th' one dun know how ta pick yer battles, eh?"

"Kill 'em!" Ginjou snarled, trying to seem the big, tough gang-leader he had been moments before, though his heartbeat had increased and sweat was beginning to pour down his back, in spite of the chill in the air.

The other five jumped at Shinji, who ducked and rolled to avoid getting hit, but still tried his hardest to keep them off of the boy he was starting to think of as his friend. Punches were swung, kicks missed and landed, bodies crashing together, each in the attempt to cull the blond from the brunette, in spite of Shinji's topsy-turvy, upside down fighting style.

Aizen's fist wound the chain tighter and that hand seized Ginjou's neck, the other taking his belt. Then, as if the massive man weight no more than five pounds, he lifted him off the floor, whirled, and used him like a hammer to bowl over the ones attempting to hit Shinji. Releasing the useless sack of meat, he flew into the remaining two like a bowling ball aimed for pins. Then he lashed out—feet, fists, it didn't much matter what he hit him with as long as he made them _hurt_, made them _bleed_. He socked one in the jaw, kicked another in the knee. One had managed to latch onto Shinji with one hand and Aizen grabbed the wrist of that offensive hand _touching his mate _and pinched so hard the man's nerves screamed and forced him to let go. He then, still gripping his wrist, bent just enough to swing the man like a sack on a string and sent him crashing, side-first, into a nearby tree trunk. Grinning that murderous, horrifying smile of sharp teeth yet again, he gestured the others on.

"Come'n git schooled, bitches!"

The force with which Shinji was released made the slim blond fall to his rump, blinking up at Aizen, who was standing over him—defending him. "Wow..."

Ginjou recovered before any of the others, and wielding the messenger bag from his shoulder like a flail, he launched himself at the brunette. The others fell back, nursing injuries and looking fairly pathetic, but not their gang-leader. He roared in outrage.

Aizen blocked the bag with his left arm and twisted at the last moment to kick Ginjou in the gut—the man's own force caused him to double over, choking on bile as lungs, diaphragm, and stomach all rebelled in agony. A second kick to his chest sent him flying back. Aizen had to forcibly remind himself that the fucker was human, and needed to catch his breath or he'd suffocate and die. Stupidly fragile, humans. It was a wonder they ever fought at all. His still feral eyes darted up to the 'backup', daring, _begging _one to come forward. He wasn't done with them! He wanted a reason, any reason, an _excuse _to pummel them some more!

"MAH! Ginjou!" His second in command, a tall, skinny guy with strange heart-shaped sunglasses, wailed. "You two catch him. We aren't equipped to deal with Jujutsu."

The two indicated each grabbed one of the burly gangleader's arms, and the whole group of them turned tail, running like the scared dogs they were. The second in command wasn't that far behind them, but he paused long enough to call over his shoulder.

"Just you two wait! We'll get Chad! He'll show you two what you get for messing with us!"

Shinji shook his head, and laughed a little. "Wow...you're really good. How come I never saw you at the competitions last year?"

Aizen sniffed, dusting off his pants and shirt as though they were dirty, though he'd never been knocked down, and held out a hand to help Shinji up. "Competitions? What competitions? And what was he talking about?"

The touch of their hands as the blond accepted the help was electrifying. "Hai! Jujutsu. It's a form of martial arts. And the team competes all across the country. I'm their waterboy for now. My mom never liked the idea of me fighting. So, I'm rather behind everyone else, but I'm learning."

What he didn't say, as he too brushed himself off and re-shouldered his bag, was that the way he was learning was by watching the team spar and practice together, always from the outside and never with any actual instruction. The sensei didn't even know he had an interest in it, because the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself. So he practiced the katas when nobody was watching, and ran errands for the team the rest of the time.

"Well, I, for one, believe that everyone should know how to defend themselves," Aizen replied firmly, patting at a few spots of dirt Shinji couldn't reach on his back. "As for what I just did…it…er…wasn't exactly martial arts." A light flush painted itself across his cheeks. "That was mostly street-brawling. Completely undisciplined and no-holds-barred. I have to admit, I was—I _am_—enraged by the way they've been treating you for over a year. This was payback."

"Oi. What makes you think I can't defend myself?" Shinji jutted his chin out at the taller male and crossed his arms over his chest. "Six against one isn't exactly fair odds, y'know."

"You have never, in over a year, hit back," he said simply. "You dodge excellently, but you do not retaliate. The only logical reason is because you don't know how to fight them. If you did, you would have…because nobody can tolerate an idiot like Ginjou throwing such insults their way for long. I'm an example. I haven't blown my top like that in years..." he smoothed his hair back and cleared his throat. "And I suppose, given the violence I've just displayed, I cannot fault you if you do not want to...associate with me."

"Are you kidding? That was awesome!" Shinji grinned, then sobered and scuffed the ground with his shoe. "And I know how to fight back...I just don't. I'm a pacifist. I hate violence. Fighting just leads to more fighting. Mahatma Ghandi once said 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind'. I'm happy just knowing how to dodge. Eventually they'll get tired and find someone else to pick on. I just turn the other cheek until then."

Aizen's eyebrow rose. "Well…'In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is King', so I suppose you're the better man between us and will one day rule us all," he said smoothly, with a smile that was nothing like the demonic thing he'd used on the gang. "There's nothing wrong with avoiding violence. However, I would be more comfortable knowing personally that you know how to defend yourself, so," he hooked his arm with the slimmer one and started to walk. "Kindly show me this 'jujutsu club'. Then you and I can learn together and practice with each other."

"Uh...okay."

The blond's grin became lop-sided as his mask slipped a fraction, and he directed them to the athletic building, for once not dreading the walk past all of the cliques and groups. He was so absorbed in just being with Aizen that he didn't even hear the undercurrent of murmurs following the pair across the campus accompanied by not-so-subtle pointing and blatant staring. The overall attitude was shock, with a mixture of pity and disdain. How could the handsome transfer student be at all interested in the campus freak?

"Well, also, there's a second, far more pleasant aspect to learning how to fight," Aizen added in a stage whisper. "Don't go telling people, but some men _actually like_ knowing the man who has willingly prostrated himself to sucking their cock so well that their eyes cross has the physical power and capability to throw them across the room," he confided, deliberately letting himself shiver. Every part of him, demon and human, loved having a partner balanced in strength and intelligence.

"So that's yer motive then." Shinji leered. "What makes ya think I can't already do that?"

"Shinji-san, no offense, but _could _you pick up a man the size of Ginjou and throw him? He's twice your size, and you've already mentioned you've just started learning this 'Jujutsu'." Aizen raised an eyebrow.

"Eh...no. But yer not as big as Gin-_joke_ is." The blond spit the man's butchered name. "An' besides I wouldn't waste my energy on trash like him, even if I could throw him across a room."

He rolled his shoulders and looked away. Damn the brunette for being able to see past his act. He knew the basics of how to throw someone that grabbed him, but not enough to really use it in a fight unless his opponent was in just the right angle.

"So then you ought to learn," the taller man said with a little grin. "And true, no point in wasting energy on a fucknut like him when a crotch-shot will do the job just as well and cause a hell of a lot more pain," he added with a positively sadistic grin before he coughed and blushed. "That came out sounding rather twisted, didn't it? Who would even _want _to touch that brute's crotch, even for the purpose of causing him pain?"

Shinji giggled, leaning on the door to the gym. "That's if the steroids he's used haven't shriveled it up ta be smaller than a vagoo, ne?" He winked, and opened the door, calling into the open area, "Oi! Sensei!? I've brought you a new fighter!"

Aizen was still laughing from Shinji's comment, and wrapped an arm around Shinji's shoulders. "Yes, Sensei, this one says that I apparently belong on the 'Jujutsu' team. Since I have no idea what the hell he's talking about, I demand he be the one to teach me," he grinned.

"That so?" The light of the basketball lights shone off the bald head that leaned out of the coaches' office. "Shinji, what shitty fag have you picked up this time?"

"He ain't shitty, Sensei! Ya should've seen what he did ta Ginjou!" The blond grinned, honest and open this time. It was clear this man, somewhere in his late forties, was one of the few people on campus that accepted Shinji for who and what he was.

Dressed in hakama and an open kosode draped around his shoulders, the sensei stepped out onto the floor of the basketball court; his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes squinted, with bright red kabuki marks on the outer corners, and he shifted the toothpick he held in his teeth from one side to the other, before spitting it out at the wall, and crossing to a set of already-spread out floor mats. "Alright, newbie, show me what ya've got, and maybe I'll let Blondie teach ya something."

Again, Aizen raised a brunette eyebrow. "...what exactly do you want me to do? I rather brawled like a street-rat with Ginjou. Forgive my language, but he pissed me the fuck off. That does not happen often. So what are you asking? You want me to just attack you?"

The sensei sniffed, looking the taller boy up and down from head to toe. "Yah, just attack me. I wanna see how strong you are. You already told me, you've got no idea what Jujutsu is."

Aizen looked at the man. Tall, solidly built. Muscled without being steroid induced. He launched himself at the coach, hands grabbing onto his shoulders, and flipped his body over the bald head to land on the other side, dragging the heavy man with him and using his weight to flip him over entirely, crouching and using his own back like the center on a see-saw to pull the man down until he hit the cushion on the floor.

The sensei grinned a feral expression that was all too familiar, and wrapped his own legs around the brunette's so that as they hit the mat they rolled, deflecting most of the impact and springing both of them back up onto their feet again. The kosode flew up into the air and the bald man's foot lashed out to hook Aizen's neck as he bent to spin on his hand, bringing the brunette around to the side, aiming to land on his back on the mats.

"Ah, by Grimmjow's fuzzy ass, Blondie was right 'bout ya."

Aizen hands caught himself and he shoved, the force allowing him to bounce back onto his feet, neck aching from where it had been hooked as he dropped and kicked the bald man square in the back of the knee—_this _was a _fight_!

"Oh yeah?" He wasn't even out of breath. "How on earth do you know that Grimmjow's ass is fuzzy? Hell, how do you know who _Grimmjow_ is?" His knee came up and hit the man in the hip, making them both wince when bone hit bone.

Allowing his legs to buckle gave the sensei the opportunity to jump away from the impact on his hip, again using his hand to pivot himself around, this time low to the ground in a leg sweep that was easily jumped over but provided the opening for his other hand to grab Aizen's shirt and launch himself back up into the brunette's face. He laughed, hot breath spilling between them.

"Any fighter worth his spit knows Grimmjow, and his brother, Renji, Gods of Conflict. S' why offense is blue an' defense is red. An' his ass is fuzzy cuz he's a goddamned cat. They both are. Why? What's it to you, boy?"

The weight of their impact landed the both of them on the floor, sensei on top of Aizen, but the brunette had the older man's legs pinned beneath him. Neither could get up without someone submitting to the other. So, the sensei, being the instructor between the two, and really fearing what his other half would say should he get in trouble with the dean again, released his hold on the brunette, and wriggled back and away with a bow of respect.

Aizen also gave a bow of respect as he rose, breathing deep. "Because I am also familiar with them, albeit in a different way," he said with a slight grin. "And just for your information, they're so far from brothers it's truly amusing to hear them called that. Especially Renji as the god of defense," he snorted.

Renji? Defense? Not unless sensei's policy was 'the best defense is a good offense'. When he stood, he righted his hair and gave a little cough. "If anyone should be a god for defense, it ought to be Renji's _husband_, Gin. Little illusionist fox is excellent at diverting his husband's violence."

The sensei on the other hand righted his kosode on his shoulders and sniffed. "Ya might be right, I'm not big on th' readin' thing Shin-chan's inta. But yer good enough ta make the team. First practice is at five tamorrah. Don' be late." And he walked off, leaving the two alone again.

"Mah, Sousuke, ya sound like ya know 'em personally." Shinji frowned, curious.

Aizen chuckled. "You could say that," he replied. "I am...intimately familiar with a number of facts and legends, enough to comfortably say I know them very well." He once again went to his mate with a suggestive grin. "So…what would you like to do now?"

Shinji merely laughed and waved him to follow, leading the brunette back out into the fading sunlight to finally get to their homework.


	23. Butterfly: Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hey there, minna! Sorry this took so long to get out. I was in the hospital for 9 days with complications related to my gallbladder surgery from back in Feb, but I'm home now. The doc has me on some good meds that keep things a bit more balanced, which has me feeling a bit better. In any case, I'm not dead! I swear. LOL. There are some warnings for this chapter, we've got some almost non-con and Aizen-style revenge for it; and implications of micro/macro lemon, which is coming in the next chapter. So, you're warned now, if you don't like it, skip the next one. Otherwise, enjoy. Ja ne!

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Almost three months later, things appeared to be 180 degrees better. Though it was cheating somewhat because of his demonic strength that could only be held back so far, Aizen quickly became the captain of the Jujutsu team, directly under Ikkaku-sensei's instruction. His own popularity sky-rocketed, and though rumors about the slim blond that was never far from his side circulated all over campus, only once had it ever been brought up to the brunette. The response received was said to have been so vicious that the cheerleader who'd propositioned the tall martial artist was still having nightmares about it. She could be seen stumbling from class to class murmuring, 'he wouldn't stop smiling'. So, all in all everything looked to be wonderful, but things were not always what they seemed.

Another day, another trial, as Shinji found himself pinned painfully up against the wall of the boys' bathroom in the library. His hands were trapped at his zipper, the teeth caught between his fingers in a desperate attempt to keep the metal from cutting into his already bruised manhood. When the thick meaty hand grabbed the back of his neck, he'd been in the middle of peeing, so the plumbing of the urinal had met his pelvis as he'd been harshly shoved against the wall. Now, he was trying not to think about the kinds of things that could be on those cinderblocks that his face was pressed against.

"Wh-what do you want, Ginjou?" He stammered, teeth grinding against his cheek.

He felt the Neanderthal's other hand roughly tug at his skinny jeans, pale green this time, and expose his ass. A throaty chuckle echoed in the cold room. "Well," He drew out the word, fondling the pale orb of flesh bruisingly. "I heard ya like ta fuck th' captains of sports teams. Bein' the football captain, I thought ya'd like ta congratulate me on our championship win th' other night."

A jean-clad hardness was press against his crack and Shinji couldn't do anything but squirm as cold, mind-numbing fear gripped his heart. "N-no, please! A-anything but that!"

It ground against him again, "What'sa matter, faggot? I thought alla yer kind liked it up th' ass?"

Shinji closed his eyes as that painful hand left his flesh and the sound of a zipper being pulled down reached his ears. 'Please, you listened before, whatever god is out there, please don't let him rape me.' His mental voice cried out into the cosmos in desperation as terror stole his tongue.

There wasn't any human explanation for what happened next. There was suddenly a hand grabbing Ginjou's collar and he was being shoved against the wall. Aizen was there, though he should've been across campus, eyes once again feral slits, and he was using unholy strength to shove the other man into the stone, snarling viciously. He didn't even have the presence of mind to use a spell.

_YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM!_ he roared in his not-voice, forcibly impressing his will upon the bully, imprinting it into his soul—this man would never lay another hand on his Shinji. Not if he had to _cut them off_. Wait! There was an idea! He thought rape was funny? See how he liked it when it was _him _under threat of rape!

_Your form doesn't fit, your sex reversed shall be, this is what I will and so mote it be!_ It had none of the elegance of a spell he hadn't made on the spot, but damn if it didn't get the job done.

He let go of Ginjou as the jock's body writhed, his skin bubbled, hips gaining curves, mounds of flesh forming on his chest, hair lengthening even as the bulge in his shorts disappeared. Aizen watched with vicious satisfaction—see how that disgusting filth of a man liked being a woman! Then he turned to Shinji.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-you!" Shinji was crumpled on the floor, his jeans ruined, but covering his modesty. "You...spoke...without...it was YOU!"

Tension hung in the air a moment, as Ginjou's transformation finished and the former male screamed unholy terror, dashing out of the bathroom like the hounds of hell were on his—no, her tail. All the while Shinji stared up at the brunette he thought he'd gotten to know, seeing something he wasn't entirely sure was there. Wings? Feelers? Could it be? It shimmered in the light from the small windows at the top of the outside wall, but where the sunlight landed on the man he hoped to become his first boyfriend, a form completely different appeared. A figure that he'd thought only existed in his dreams and sketchbooks.

Aizen's feelers curled in and his wings fluttered nervously. "I…me? Um, what do...?"

He had been worried about Shinji, but now he was realizing he'd probably revealed himself. Shit! He hadn't gotten the blond comfortable enough with him yet, and then to spring this on him? Oh he'd be lucky if the man didn't decide he was a hallucination and disappear!

"Y-you're that...the...from before...in my dreams...with the snake." Shinji stammered walking himself back to his feet along the wall, too in shock to notice he looked terrified.

Aizen swallowed hard. "Y-you remember?"

His voice was small. He was starting to _feel _small. He'd scared his mate, and that was the last thing he wanted to do! It made him feel like dirt, it made him feel young and stupid, it made him feel like—With a _poof _Aizen disappeared, clothes falling into a crumpled heap on the floor. All that was left was a tiny, unnoticed chocolate-colored caterpillar on top of the white shirt.

"W-wait!" Shinji cried out, but it was too late. He hastily refastened his jeans and stumbled toward the spot where the brunette had been moments before to fall to his knees next to the abandoned clothing. His voice was soft, sad, and lonely, as he stared at the shirt. "Don't go..." He sniffed and wrapped his arms around his ribs, "Great goin', Freakshow, jus' scare 'im off why don't ya. Every single fuckin' time. College'll be better, she said. Y'ill meet friends there, she said. Bah! Not if I keep doin' th' same shit I did in high school."

Gathering up the clothing, because at the very least, he'll could still smell the brunette's scent in it, Shinji climbed back to his feet and exited the bathroom. He crossed through the library as quickly and as quietly as he could, shoulders bent and avoiding all contact. Once outside in the crisp, almost winter air, and sunshine he noticed the little caterpillar crawling across the shirt, fuzzy and shivering.

"How'd you git there?" He pondered for a moment, but continued talking, out of habit. "Yer lucky yah know that? All ya gotta do is eat, sleep, an' someday when yer big enough..." He looked up at the sky with a mournful sigh, "Someday y'ill fly."

His walk toward the edge of campus brought him close to a stand of evergreen bushes, and with the utmost care and gentleness Shinji lifted the baby insect onto a branch fairly high up and covered with plump, juicy needles.

"Here, mebbe y'ill have better luck 'n me. At least, it's better'n a smelly college bathroom."

He watched it for a short while, feeling that same awkward unfinished feeling he always had about himself, like he was the one crawling along on his belly waiting for the day to fly. The feeling of fitting in he'd just started to get used to hanging around with Aizen made being alone right then all the more painful, and he couldn't stop the fat tear that escaped down his cheek at the thought that he'd never see the brunette ever again.

Abruptly, there was a flash of light, an explosion of violent, vibrant color. A rainbow, tiny but perfect, appeared in front of his face from where he'd set the caterpillar, and abruptly there was a miniature Aizen hovering in front of his nose. Only about eight inches tall, he was a perfect miniature man, with three distinct differences—one, he had rainbow-colored butterfly wings attached to his back; two, he had long feelers on his forehead; and three, instead of feet his legs ended in a single point with flexible spines starting at about mid-calf.

"Shinji Hirako, you did _not _scare me off! Further, I don't ever, EVER want to hear you call yourself Freakshow again…" he paused, tugging on a lock of golden hair to make sure the blond was paying attention to what he was saying and not just going 'ooooohhhh lookit the pretty fairy'. He'd had that happen more than once and it was humiliating. "You are beautiful, and intelligent, and optimistic and wonderful, and if you ever call yourself that again I will magically bind your tongue so you can't say those two words at all, much less as a conjoined term!" He finished, hands on his hips and feelers making his attempted stern look only come out adorable and pouty. His wings were a buzzing blur, he was so angry. How dare his mate think so low of himself?!

"Whoa what?!" Shinji backpedaled, throwing the clothing up into the air to land around him in a halo of fabric as he, himself, once again landed on his rear end. He did that entirely too much for his taste, especially as a pair of well-made, navy boxers landed across his head, causing him to sputter and blush furiously, ripping the article of clothing from his hair, only to drop it like it was made of acid. "I...wow...I really am crazy."

"Hardly!" Aizen protested before shivering. "...be right back." He darted into the bushes and returned a few moments later with a crude leaf loincloth. "Christ it's cold being a bug. And I haven't turned myself into a caterpillar since I was in short pants, for the King's sake," he muttered as he flew once more in front of Shinji's nose. "But I'm serious you know! You're not a freak, and you aren't insane!"

"Fine, fine." The blond laughed, shaking his head. "I won't call m'self a freakshow anymore, but can I say one thing, little Chou?"

"Of course. As long as you're not insulting yourself, say what you like." Aizen fluttered in a display of rainbow colors in an attempt to keep warm.

"You are damn cute!" Shinji cooed, laughing even harder.

The miniature man flushed a delicate rose pink from head to foot to wing-tips. "I—I am not cute! Keepers of the Balance are strong, and handsome, and—and—and—" He flushed a little deeper. "...you think I'm cute?"

The blond's infectious, if slightly deranged, grin was back, framed by that pageboy straight blond hair, and topped with eyes that saw entirely too much for a human that age, "Yer adorable!"

Aizen couldn't _really _argue. His mate thought he was adorable! Sexy would have been better, sure, but he could live with adorable. Except..."I hate to interrupt your ogling, but um...could I ask a favor? Could you grab my clothes and continue this conversation elsewhere? I can't change back to normal here…in public…where anybody can see me. And this far from my Center of Power, I can't cast the kind of glamour necessary to prevent anyone from noticing, I just don't have the strength right now."

"Heh." Feeling more bold than normal, now that the object of his affection was closer to the form his confidants usually took, Shinji quipped, as he climbed to his feet, "Sure. I was about ta head home now anyway."

He made quick work of gathering the items he'd flung about them, though he still blushed furiously when he had to pick up the boxers that had assaulted him during his fall. The task inadvertently put his rear end on display for the insect-sized male to do some ogling of his own.

"I gotta ask though, how come, if yer th' same guy that saved me back then, how come ya never talked back b'fore? Why'd ya wait 'til now ta talk ta me?"

Aizen hesitated for a moment, phrasing his answer delicately—reminding Shinji of his past lives always, without fail, drove the man to suicide. Too much trauma, too much pain. "There have been...extenuating circumstances. And I've been talking to you for quite some time…you just couldn't hear," he said, landing on a thin shoulder.

Seeing as how he was moving around, carrying the change of clothing in his arms, and talking to no one obviously visible to the outside world, Shinji's mood dampened somewhat. He walked quickly, and spoke quietly, "Well, it makes fer some real lonely conversations ya know."

"Oh, I am aware," The butterfly spoke just as softly. So many long, lonely years...he shuddered, but to cover up his reaction he added, "It is damnably cold out here for an insect. Is your place close?"

"Round th' corner. I live 'bove th' book shop we went to that first day after ya met Ikkaku-sensei." Shinji smiled softly, remembering how much fun that had been. Suddenly he laughed again, drawing more than a few curious stares. "So, d'ya always turn inta a caterpillar when yer frightened?"

Aizen flushed again. "Er, no, typically not. In fact, not for...for a very long time. I'm honestly embarrassed I let it happen," he covered his face with one hand.

Abruptly, Shinji's laughter cut off, "Was it somethin' I said?" He dug into his pocket for his keys and popped the lock on the side door, next to the display window of the bookshop.

"Well, yes and no," the butterfly replied. He couldn't lie to his mate. No, he _refused _to lie to his mate. "Yes, because you startled me. Most emphatically _no _because it is hardly your fault I allowed myself to lose control to the point I reverted back to a larval stage. That was my own damn fault...and…I'm sorry about this but I can't wait any longer, I'm just too cold," he said, before dashing across his shoulder to his collar and slipping in between fabric and skin, giving an unashamed moan of pure pleasure at the heat of his human, feet tickling and wings a gossamer touch against his flesh.

Shinji squirmed, tickled and other things by the sensation of the small man getting comfortable. He inadvertently whimpered, though it sounded a bit like a moan. "Ah...Chou-san..."

"Yes, Shinji-san?" Snuggling into the curve of his human's neck, and purring internally.

The blond squirmed again, "Yer makin' it real hard fer me ta get m' lock undone." His hand shook as he tried open the door to his apartment.

"Heh, my apologies," Aizen trilled audibly, not sounding a bit sorry. "By the way, might I ask why you call me 'Chou'?"

Getting the door opened, Shinji smirked, "Cuz yer a chou. A butterfly, ne?"

"Naturally, Shinji-san. As a matter of fact, I am _the _butterfly," the demon said proudly.

And he was, after all. He was Famine, Master of Illusion, and Lord of all creatures that could decimate a human's food supply. Generally that meant insects like locusts and moths, but his connection extended to all vermin and insectoids.

"Is that what ya meant by Center o' Power?" Shinji asked, piling the formerly man-sized brunette's clothing on the corner of the couch and slipping off his shoes.

"Somewhat. My Ley Line and Power Pool to be more specific. It is the place where my magic is gathered and stored until I need it. It is located as part of the Shrine I usually call home in Tokyo." The scent of his mate made the Third's feelers go crazy, trailing up and down behind the blond's ear, much to Shinji's discomfort. A sly smile crossed the small creature's face, "You mentioned a few months ago that your father was Japanese, do you know any of the language?"

"S-some." Shinji stuttered, trying to focus on anything but the electric shocks running through his system at the butterfly's touch.

Aizen immediately switched languages. "Good. I was born there, you know, and someday you will need to come with me to meet the King, because you will always have a friend with me and mine," he promised, entire voice and body practically vibrating with sincerity.

"Whoa! Too fast! I only got 'bout half o' that." But the blond was laughing again. "Jus' cuz I study it don't mean I can speak it all that well. Hell, I've only been takin' official classes since th' start o' th' semester."

"So, that is what you do when I am training with Ikkaku-sensei these days. I had wondered." The brunette shrugged, his wings fluttering so hard with pleasure they created a humming sound tickling the skin of his mate's neck. "No matter, I will be your new tutor. I am one of the smartest minds alive, you know."

Shinji laughed and crossed the living room to light the heater. "Modest much?"

Aizen snorted again. "When you get to my age, modesty becomes naught but a quaint, charming habit. One dropped long ago."

"Oh yeah, THAT really makes me feel better. Not only are ya only eight inches tall, an' a fairy I might add! Yer OLD!" A blush crept across Shinji's ears and cheeks.

"Age is irrelevant to me. Plainly speaking, in human terms I am 'older than dirt'. In the only terms that matter, that of my own body and unique makeup, I am in the prime of my youth and always will be such." There was a small pause. "And I'm _not _a fairy! I thought we already established, I am a butterfly!"

Shinji laughed again. "We went over this months ago. Yer int'rested in me. That makes ya a fairy." He grinned. "I'm proud ta be a fairy."

Aizen just frowns and scratches his head. "Ohhhh...yes, that altercation with _that one_ about homosexuality." He refused to use the former male student's name since the attempted rape that afternoon, "In that case, yes I am a fairy because yes, I prefer men. I have seen the horrors and cruelty women are capable of."

Moving into the kitchen, the blond gave a shudder about the implications of women. "Fleshy, drippy, bitey, loud...ugh! Give me a cock any day. I know how ta handle one o' them."

"Exactly—oh wait. No, no I recall impregnating a female once. That was enjoyable. She was a terror, but the child was worth it. An adorable daughter. She lived quite a happy life until she expired painlessly as the ripe old age of eighty." He kicked his little, pointed feet, peering out of his mate's shirt collar to watch what was going on. "But that was centuries ago when women weren't quite so loud and vicious. She was a sweet thing except when the baby kicked. Quiet. She helped me realize that calm people bore me to tears."

"Remind me ta never introduce ya ta m'sister." Shinji shuddered again, "Ya wanna talk loud and vicious. Brat beats me over th' head with 'er shoe ev'ry time she sees me."

"Ah, that kind. I'm familiar. Shark female. I do hope she won't be showing up anytime soon?" He phrased the question delicately. He didn't know if he could react intelligently to further abuse of his mate. Not after he _finally _got him.

"Nah, she's back in Lilly, wi' my mom. That's 'bout..." The blond paused to think about it while running hot water into a coffee pitcher similar to the one that ran the kitchen back at the Shrine. "Two an' a half hours from here. In that d'rection." He pointed.

"Oh good," Aizen breathed. He didn't explain, merely shuddered in a way that Shinji mistook it for a shiver.

"Sorry if things're a little cold fer a few minutes. The heater should warm up the place soon."

The butterfly chittered in an amused tone. "Nnnghiee. I'm fine right where I am until it warms up," he promised, wings fluttering with pleasure as he ducked back down into his mate's shirt.

"Yeah I'm sure ya are, but I can't make coffee with ya tickling my neck like that."

"Coffee can't wait?" The little plaintive voice he used sent a pleased vibration through the spot he'd been tickling before, and Shinji couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine.

"If yer gonna stick around in there, could ya at least move to th' left a little, where yer walkin' right now...heh...s'not exactly 'ticklish' but...eh..." The blond blushed as his jeans weren't quite as comfortable anymore.

Aizen started to obey, then the _scent _of his Shinji rolled over him and instead he planted his 'feet' very firmly right where he is. "And that is a bad thing?"

"B-but..." His mate's breathing picked up a little, "Yer tiny...an'..." And bit his lip as those feelers tickle the back of his ear.

"I know I am. That doesn't mean, Shinji-sama," Aizen purred, using the honorific to play up the difference in their size, and teasing him with his wings as he nearly danced on Shinji's good spot, "that I cannot be the one touching _you_. Pop your buttons for me?" The request was almost innocent, except he didn't specify which buttons.

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**A/N 2: **We, the authors, would like to note that we are not woman-haters in any way shape or form and that it is NOT okay that we live in a culture where rape is something for women to both expect and take measures to avoid. However, it is a fitting punishment for our would-be rapist to be on the other side of the situation for a change. So, our apologies if anyone is offended by the way females are described here. It was not in any way our intention.


	24. Butterfly: Chapter 4

**A/N:** Hey, guess what, minna, because I feel bad about leaving you hanging for so long this month, YOU GET ANOTHER UPDATE! WOOT! And...IT'S SMUT! XD It's a little outside of our normal yaoi though, because this time we're playing with micro/macro stuff. (e.g. Fairy!Aizen and normal sized Shinji) Is top!Mirco even a thing? If it wasn't before I think it is now. Lol. There is also sounding, which if you don't know what that is, Aizen is quite helpful to explain it before it happens. Hee hee! Enjoy! Ja ne!

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"I...uh..."

A noise of both arousal and defeat escaped the blond's lips as his hands practically flew to the buttons on his shirt. Delayed pleasure was something he had played with often on his own, and nothing was quite as stimulating as knowing that the one giving him pleasure would be physically incapable of providing the kind of stimulation he would need for a quick climax.

Aizen walked over and around his spot before walking down the skin as it was bared, his little spines making him able to cling to Shinji's skin so he could walk vertically on his body, tickling and teasing all the way.

"Ha...hey...that's..." The words were lost in another noise that was somewhere between moan and whimper.

"That's what, Shinji-sama?" The brunette kept his voice light, like a true inquiry instead of the tease that it was, as he walked right over to his mate's nipple, shoving the fabric away from in front of him.

The human took three steps back, staring at the small creature on his chest, and promptly sat on the beaten up blue couch his mother had helped him salvage from a dumpster on campus. Gripping the cushion as surely as though he'd been restrained, he whimpered, "Yer not playin' fair."

"Playing fair? But, Shinji-sama...I'm a Demon. As far as my kind is concerned, all is fair when it comes to games of seduction."

Aizen's tone was as innocent as he could manage. Then, kneeling before the nipple like a supplicant before an altar, he bent forward to begin sucking at it, translucent wings arching above him.

"Nyah!" The blond shivered all over at touch, having only ever played with himself all of the sensations were new, and thus, quickly making his already uncomfortable jeans more so.

Aizen licked and sucked until it was all wet and peaked, then fluttered to the other nipple and repeated the process, bouncing back and forth between the two until his mate was mewling at the tiny puffs of breath that were his respiration in this form.

Digging his toes into the carpet, and his fingers into the couch, Shinji's chin tucked to his chest so he could at least watch what the more experienced creature was doing to him. His shirt wide open, and the zipper of his jeans bulging up almost painfully, he was breathless, "Ya...gonna do that...th' whole time?"

The butterfly's eyes glinted, small though he was. "I was only waiting on you," he purred, before he darted down to his mate's straining zipper, grabbed it, and yanked until it was gaping open. "Undo your button and pull yourself out," he ordered, commanding for all that he was eight inches tall and the blond could easily squash him like the bug he was.

Strangely compelled, Shinji quickly did so, gasping a little as the air touched his length. He blushed deeper under the demon's admiration as it had a crook almost a full fifteen degrees to the right, but hard as steel and thick with a highly sensitive vein snaking from blond curls to the lip of swollen head.

Aizen traced the vein with one hand from top to bottom before perching very precisely on the head, able to cling thanks to his feet. He then traced the slit with the very tip of one foot, wings fluttering from time to time as his supporting foot slipped a little in the sticky-slick precome.

"Nngh~!" Shinji moaned, once again spell-bound by the pleasure coursing through his body, and his dick twitched violently.

The brunette chuckled at him, and, with the most delicate of careful movements, he gently dipped his foot _into _Shinji's slit as far as he could. With a wriggle and a twist, using the pre to his advantage, he managed to get it in halfway up his calf.

The blond's eyes went wide, and he gasped, that made for all kinds of sparks to go off in his mind and he practically vibrated resisting the urge to buck his hips. Around the butterfly's foot, a fat droplet welled up and out.

In response, Aizen gave it another twist to let him feel the soft, flexible spines, and slowly pulled his foot out, wings fluttering hard to get a little extra leverage. When it popped free, he actually did so with such force it was like a cork popping from a bottle, causing him to tumble into the air, where his whirring wings managed to save him.

Between the twist and the force of the pop, Shinji cried out with another violent twitch and he actually had to grasp the base of his shaft to keep from going off right then. "Y-you...yer good..." He panted, trying to calm down at least a little.

"Why thank you. And here I thought my skills would be rusty after all this time." The demon fluttered back to his cock, and walked down it to the base to alight on his hand, leaving sticky, circular 'footprints' over the back to his knuckles. "Might I ask why you stopped yourself?"

There was no disappointment in his voice, only curiosity and interest, so Shinji complied with a panted answer. It was obvious just because he'd stopped his climax, didn't mean he wasn't right on the edge of it. "S'all...always better...higher...when I stop it a couple o' times."

"Ah. And you appreciate the finer points of this, I assume." The minuscule man walked up to his mate's wrist and perched there. By now, his little leaf loincloth was starting to dry out, and it cracked when he sat down. He got irritated and pushed at it, but it only broke more.

"I've had m'fair share of knowin' what I c'n do ta make it better. That's how it works when all ya've got is yerself fer this stuff." Catching his breath now, Shinji quirked an eyebrow, and raised his other hand as though he was going to fondle his scrotum. However, as he reached down, he flicked his thumb out and caught the back of the loincloth, smirking a bit as the dry vine snapped.

Aizen was surprised at the boldness of the move, but stood and gave his hips a sensuous little shake. This let the remains of the leaf fall from his body, putting his own hard length on display. Of course, being as he was so small, it was equally small, but it was...fairly large in proportion to his body. In his usual form, of being six foot three, he was nine inches. Now, at eight inches tall, he was about half an inch.

False confidence was Shinji's entire bag, but being called on it, especially with an obviously more experienced partner, it always faltered. So, the blond blushed again, from his nose to his navel, a delicate pink that made almost invisible freckles stand out against his skin. He literally had no idea where to go from there, and was terrified he'd do something wrong; make the wonderful creature go away. So, all he could do was massage the triangle of muscle below his cock slowly with the fingers of his left hand.

The butterfly came up his body—stalking, strutting really, showing off his stuff as a bird might display in order to entice a mate. His muscles rippled, his wings shimmered. And despite being so small, he managed to look suave and powerful—deliberately stepping on those delicious freckles and skipping from dot to dot, showing off his agility. When he got to his mate's collarbone, he leaned up and kissed his mouth, softly, right in the middle of his lower lip.

"Such a sweet creature. So responsive. So beautiful. Stupid humans, not knowing what an angel has been dwelling in their midst."

"S-somehow...I think ya have been watchin' me...f-for a reason." The blond was trembling a bit now, though the uncertainty in his eyes was obviously not affecting how aroused he was, and goose-bumps broke out over his skin when he licked his lips, there was _something _in that kiss.

"Such talk is not for now," Aizen replied, quickly. "Now is for talk of more erotic subjects. Like how your pre-come tastes like sugar. And how I can hardly wait to taste your climax, but I know patience pays off. For now, I plan on...other endeavors if you don't mind."

"Uh...ok...?" Shinji blinked, an eyebrow twitching a little as a flash of concern almost stole what little confidence he had. "I...uh...I've never done this stuff with...uh...anyone else before...is that ok?"

The demon's entire body stilled before his wings turned promptly deep purple—the color of 'mating lust'. His voice was deep, and his eyes were dilated. "Fuck yes that's okay. That's better than okay. That is absolutely _amazing_."

A smile tugged the corners of Shinji's mouth, and a nervous giggle came out as half moan. He swallowed, a taste on the air that was the same _something _that had given him goose-bumps. "Wh-what do you want me to d-do?"

Aizen wrestled with himself for control. King-damn-it! Willing AND virginal?! He wished could turn back to full size in an instant, but as he stated before he really was too far from his Ley Line to complete such a transformation without sleeping and he really didn't want to wait any longer.

When he'd managed to get himself back under control marginally, he coughed. "If you don't mind me going a couple of odd places, I'd like you to turn onto your stomach."

"Uh...it'd be more comfortable if I laid on the bed, if ya don't mind?" Shinji was so compelled with wanting to please his new-demonic lover that the fact that he could manhandle the tiny creature never even crossed the poor virgin's mind.

"Of course I don't mind. I want you to be comfortable." The butterfly lifted off, wings a purple smear in the air with an edge of rainbow. The visible signal that his lust was just barely under control.

The blond stood, getting a nose full of that dust. His pupils dilated and his breathing picked up again. He made another of those unconscious noises somewhere between a whimper and a moan, then stumbled to the bedroom, leaving skinny jeans, shirt and boxers on the floor.

"On m' belly right?" He asked, crawling up on the bed in a way that was tantalizing without realizing it.

The purple edged out the rainbow for a moment before Aizen again wrestled himself back under control. "Y-yes. Get fully comfortable."

Shinji blinked at the sheets for a moment, before doing just that, and with his hands under his chest, turned his head to look over his shoulder at the butterfly. "Ok...?

The demon landed on his tailbone, wings folding down along his back in a way that should've been physically impossible. Insect wings didn't bend like that. "Are you comfortable with me touching your entrance and the surrounding areas? I'm not going to go there if you don't want me to," he promised.

"I...uh..." The blond's blush deepened, "I don't mind." He immediately thought of the toys under the edge of the bed, and his eyes drifted over the edge of the bed in an unconscious tell.

Aizen made a mental note—such things were beyond him at his current size. Wait, maybe it wasn't..."Kindly retrieve them."

"R-re…what?" Shinji squeaked.

He hadn't spoken. He was sure of it! Blinking a few times, he reached for the shoebox anyway. Once on the bed, he took the top off, displaying several different shaped vibrators, three plugs in gradually larger sizes, and a collection of lubricants in every flavor from mint to strawberry, warming, tingling, cooling, numbing, and each one had a liberal amount missing from it. However, everything was impeccably clean; spotless even. He hadn't thought his blush could get redder.

"I...uh...like to play...it...uh...helps me fall asleep..."

"Oh, I am not judging you. I merely wish you to use these…I believe honey lubrication would be preferred, and I'd like to see how you use that angled vibrator," The tiny man urged gently. "Being the size I am, I cannot do it myself, nor can I physically satisfy you. These are adequate substitutes."

"Oh..."

Sitting up carefully so as not to knock the butterfly from his back, the blond took the lavender colored device and bottle of golden-yellow slick out of the box, then closed the lid again to set it off the bed for safety. He knew just how wild he got with that rounded hook vibrating against his prostate—it was one of his favorites. There, however, he hesitated, for though he knew exactly what to do with said toys, doing it front of someone else was something entirely new.

"D-do ya want me ta just go at it?"

The butterfly contemplated for a moment, "Whatever you feel comfortable with. I could tell you my reactions to what I see you do, if you'd like. Or you could pretend I'm not here."

"Well...there's...uh..." A thought crossed the blond's mind, "Have ya watched me b'fore?"

"I can't say I have," the butterfly replied truthfully. Previous lives never did such activities, and until very recently he wasn't able to watch over him from other countries.

"Oh." Somehow Shinji was rather disappointed about that. "Then...um...go sit on th' table an' I'll show ya..." He blushed furiously through his attempt at being seductive.

The brunette dutifully flew to the table, sat on the edge, and crossed his legs at the 'ankles', watching avidly, wings still purple. "You are truly beautiful, you know. I already feel you're going to give an..._astonishingly _arousing show," he purred, voice infused with a tingle-creating seduction.

Shinji rolled over to his back and closed his eyes, bringing up his favorite fantasy. There was a man, tall, dark, mysterious, who brought him into the bedroom, laid him down with a whisper of affection in that husky, almost bass not-voice that had saved his life fifteen years ago. Taking the lube in hand, the fantasy continued, the man in his dreams slicking his fingers, made all the more potent because of the scent of wildflowers under the flavoring that made it taste like honey. The blond bit his lip, arching his back as he slipped a finger inside himself. He didn't dare touch his cock this soon. The teasing earlier made him more responsive than usual, and a moan broke past his trapped lip. He ran his other hand down his body, fingers twitching to touch himself, but he resisted.

Behind his eyelids the man whispered, '_Not yet, hold it back, you can do it._'

A second finger joined the first and it brought his hips completely off the bed, his other hand gripping the vibrator for stability that was impossible as the proud length above him drooled and reached for stimulation he refused to give it. His heels dug into the bed, and his scissoring took on a more frantic pace, the tiny bit of pain just adding to his already sky-high arousal.

Within his mind, the voice said, '_You want me to put it in? Beg me for it. Tell me how hot you are._'

"Uhn...puh-please..." Shinji whimpered, thoroughly wrapped within his fantasy.

'_Tell me more, pretty boy._'

"F-fuck me...puh-please...So...Ahn!" The blond writhed.

He pulled his hand from within himself and inserted the vibrator in almost a single move, turning it on immediately, as though being punished or rewarded for what he was doing. His cock darkened, and his hips bucked back against the silicon in his hand. At this point, the blond deliberately shattered his vision, and turned to the night table with lusty eyes so dark they were almost black.

"T-talk to m-me...?" He pleaded.

_"You are doing so well",_ Aizen purred, not-voice vibrating the very being and reality around them. _"Sweet. Sweet as the honey you're using. Your hole is taking that toy like I'm sure you want to take my cock. Don't you, Shinji?"_

The blond's eyelids fluttered, "Oh...oh yesss..."

He ran his thumb along the control, taking it higher, and grinding down against it. Still he didn't touch himself. He hadn't been told he was allowed, not yet. What was left of his mind chanted, 'almost, not yet, wait 'til he says to' over and over with every thrust, in spite of the glistening sugar running along that vein because of the angle.

_"I want to see you hold yourself back again," _the butterfly told him. _"I want to see you arch and whine as you deny yourself release. And most of all, when I do allow you to come, I want to come with you. I cannot fill you with my honey, not as I am now, not the way I want to…but…but after your next false peak I've got a special treat for you."_

Shinji nodded shakily, his hand coming up to grip the base of his cock like he did before. Just the touch of his fingers to the sensitive flesh brought that pseudo-climax the demon wanted, and a high keening whine accompanied the way his body made an almost perfect half-circle, twitching and vibrating. Somehow in his haze, the blond kept the toy slamming into his prostate, and just as an extra tease, because he always did that to himself, he forced the vibrations to their max. This brought another howling whine, sunny hair tangling as his head thrashed from side to side, biting his lip.

Aizen let him writhe for a few moments, and when he began to calm down, Aizen gave a soft command. _"Enough. Calm yourself so you are able to remove your hand."_

His mate whimpered again, breathing heavily, rolling to the side so that he was facing the nightstand, his dripping, pulsing length millimeters from touching the blanket. Pleading in his eyes, he bit his lip harder, the pain helping to bring him back from the brink. Again he massaged that triangle, the extra sensations giving him enough of a focus so he could fully let go of his cock again, though the red-purple of denied release stayed, making the flesh look angry and ready to explode. The rubbing continued as he drew his hand back, across his hip, and then down his thigh in an obviously well-practiced move.

_"I want you to return to your back," _the soft not-voice echoed, _"I am going to use my small size to my advantage, Shinji. Do you know what 'sounding' is?"_

All the 23-yr-old could do was shake his head as he complied with the orders, spreading himself and watching the butterfly with equal parts anticipation and begging.

The smaller creature came drifting over as on a breeze, and landed once again on top of his cock. _"Sounding, my dear, lovely Shinji, is the term used to describe the insertion of things into the urethra for sexual pleasure. It is also a medical procedure, but that does not apply to what I intend to do."_ He straddled the glans carefully, scooping pre-come off of it and slicking his own dick.

His breathing catching in his chest as that _something_ accompanied the creature's movements, Shinji blinked, watching, his tongue snaking out to lick his lips. Aizen positioned himself, and looked his mate in the face as he eased into his slit, watching for signs of discomfort. The touch, the newness of it, had the blond closing his eyes with another of those whining moans.

"M...gonna..." The blond breathed deeply, several deliberately controlled breaths. "That's..." Another breath. "Wow..."

"Yes. Wow." The demon petted the taut flesh as he hilted, pausing to let the other adjust.

"I hope...yer...that it won't...Mmph...not gonna..." Shinji couldn't get his sentences to stick together, but desperately hoped that the other knew just how close he was. Two denied releases without a ring to hold him back? He'd be lucky if he lasted long enough for the butterfly to start moving.

Aizen seemed to understand implicitly, because when he spoke, his voice was soothing, and calming, "Shinji. Can you hold back without your hand? Long enough for me to spill my honey into you?"

"I...c'n...try..." The human breathed, closing his eyes.

That felt so good! His toes curled into the sheets, and he held as still as he could possibly manage. Any change on his end and he'd be undone, with nothing he could do about it. So, he gave the tiny creature the hottest, most desperate look yet, and nodded.

"Go ahead."

The butterfly was already walking a fine edge himself from watching his mate, and when he began to move he lasted a pitiful handful of thrusts—four rolls of his hips and he was clutching Shinji's cockhead and injecting his seed into it.

OH that! The blond's eyes rolled back into his head, and he groaned, breathing deeply through his nose. He had to get breath, had to be able to ask, to beg for release. He just couldn't seem to find the words in the mush that his mind had become.

_"Come for me,"_ Aizen snarled the order, wanting to see his love completely spent.

Fireworks didn't even begin to describe that all-consuming wave of pleasure as Shinji came harder than he ever had before, the lava-like eruption from his slit enough force to knock the butterfly from his perch. A hand flew to his shaft to milk out the waves, and every breath was a throaty, desperate sound, as the translucent white fluid poured down onto his hand and then to the bed.

The demon was drawn to that fluid, that _nectar_, and corrected himself mid-air to dart back and begin lapping at it, wing colors swirling purple and green in pleasure and contentment. Blearily watching the butterfly was almost enough to spur on a second round, but as his wits began to come back to him, Shinji frowned.

"Ya never answered me 'bout the reason ya watched ov'r me." His voice was slurred with afterglow.

"Didn't I? My apologies. I'll tell you when you wake up," Aizen promised, fluttering up to kiss his nose, tiny chin coated in the human's release. "Right now, you're tired and deserve to enjoy your afterglow, and the sweet, sweet relaxation that can only come in the wake of an orgasm."

His wing-dust went drifting over the human to reinforce his soothing words and silky voice. This was a topic he really wasn't comfortable discussing, and the longer he could enjoy this blissful paradise the better, even if it meant his soul's mate would be sleeping most of the time.

"Are ya...ya...gonna...l-leave?"

Shinji couldn't keep his eyes open, slipping into sleep filled with that elusive man, the same one that used that non-voice, and was the object of all of his fantasies. He was the reason the blond was obsessed with butterflies, and now, this strange creature that could speak in that same voice had evidently been impersonating his classmate for a year and a half. If he hadn't already been mind-blown by the orgasm, the blond would have lost his sanity right then.

_"Don't be ridiculous," _the demon soothed, not-voice proving the truth of his words, though his mate couldn't possibly know that, _"I will never leave you, nor be far from you. I never have and I never will."_ He pet Shinji's face, tucking his hair behind his ears before fluttering to the bedside table.

Instantly the sleeping human relaxed, a smile curling his mouth and he mumbled, as he often did at this stage of slumber, "I love ya, So."

_"And I love you, Shinji," _Sousuke replied, voice thick with tears he refused to shed. He had cried himself out long ago. _"I have loved you for a thousand centuries and I will continue to love you to the ends of the Abyss itself."_

He swallowed the lump in his throat and busied himself with cleaning his feelers. The sensation was always so distracting it quieted his busy mind.


	25. Butterfly: Chapter 5

**A/N:** Sorry about the impromptu hiatus, RL well and truly did me under for a little while. I debated putting this up for Grimm/Ichi Day but decided against it because they aren't our main pairing here. Hope everyone's was excellent. And I'm sorry this is so short. I need to come up with a cover image for part 5, but I'll put up the first chapter as soon as I've got one. Enjoy! Ja ne!

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Sunlight streamed through the tattered blinds, glinting off of hair the same color, as it slid over the pale eyelids beneath until they fluttered open. Immediately the first thing Shinji was aware of was the vibrator still in his ass. He whimpered as he pulled it out, and dove for the bathroom to clean up, completely missing the person sitting on his couch until after he exited once again. Then he caught sight of the over six foot tall humanoid with the huge gossamer wings sitting seiza at his coffee table reading his psychology book.

"Uh...?"

Aizen had propped his chin on his hand when Shinji went dashing by, and smiled beautifully at him. "Good morning, Shinji."

The blond snagged a towel from the bathroom behind him to hold in front of himself. "Uh...mornin'? Did...uh...are you...um?"

"Surely you haven't forgotten last night?" The butterfly was still in his demonic form, point-tipped feet in clear view behind him. "I am able to adjust my size, if that's what you were wondering. I did promise not to leave."

"So..." Shinji blinked several times and looked around the room, "Uh...not that I didn't enjoy it er nothin' but...ya promised me ya'd tell me why ya were watchin' me this mornin'...an' I don' us'ally do that...I mean...I've never done that...I don't know if ANYone outside o' hentai has ever done that." He blushed lightly.

The brunette chuckled softly, but he was a bit nervous. Usually, this was when things began going downhill with his mate. "Well, much as it may seem like the plot of a bad yaoi, it happened. And I did promise." Putting the book aside, he rose to his feet and offered his mate a deep bow. "As you already know my name is Aizen Sousuke, and I am..." He paused to gather his nerve. "I am Famine, Third Horseman under The King of Souls."

Shinji rubbed his head, "Why's that sound familiar? Not yer name o' course, but the rest of it."

"Please don't think on it too hard," Aizen replied, but really he was pleading.

Somehow, his mate never quite was able to properly assimilate his other Lives. It drove him mad, every time. The brunette tended to attribute it to the high amount of lives in which he was abused, or died violently and young, accumulated life-traumas making it impossible for him to remember without suffering acute shellshock and either dying from that, or being driven insane by the pain in the memories and committing suicide.

"No, it's like..." The blond shook his head, coming over to the couch and plopping down, frowning. "See there's this voice. In my head. My whole life, he's been there. Would warn me away from people sometimes. An' I asked him once what his name was, but all I could hear was 'So'. Was that you?"

The taller male was hesitant, but not unforthcoming, "Of course. After Gin began calling me 'So-So' many years ago, I found myself becoming fond of the nickname. And of course, that voice is mine. As I said I have watched over you for a long time, even when I was not physically or mentally with you."

"So...heh…gonna hafta change how I say stuff er yer always gonna think I'm sayin' yer name." Shinji smiled. He let his eyes trail over the wings, and feelers, a soft contemplative look crossing his mind. "I don't know if ya can help me with this but since ya obviously aren't human maybe ya can give me the answers nobody else could. I had this dream when I was little, 'bout bein' surrounded by people tryin' ta kill me. I had some kinda weapon er somethin' an' was swingin' it 'round when all of a sudden there's this flap of wings an' this thing falls on me. I can't see what it is, but I know I'm warm, an' that the people tryin' ta kill me can't get to me. But in the dream fer some reason I was fightin' to get out from under it, an' I remember thinkin' how stupid that was cuz there wasn't nothin' wrong with bein' held, 'specially when th' one holdin' me was protectin' me. But, the wings...they looked just like yers."

He reached out to touch one, almost afraid that they'd dissolve into nothing. Surprisingly, they held under his touch, depositing a thick layer of dust onto his hand where it touched. Aizen's eyes closed. First, because his mate was touching his wings and giving him goose-bumps. Second, he did remember that memory. He remembered that _battle_, his wings torn to shreds, his body rent in two, and his mate dying, impaled on the end of a—

His eyes flew open and he swallowed. "Yes, I-I…I know the...the dream. It is...an old nightmare...of mine. I must have...have accidentally shared it with you."

Oh, this was not good. Everything in him rebelled against lying to his mate. Even this partial-truth was much too close to outright lying to his mate and it showed. Damn his stutter!

"I didn't think it worked that way." Shinji shivered. "I knew ya b'fore. Didn't I?" He didn't let the other answer. "In my studies of my Dad's culture I read something. I know about the cycle of rebirth thing, an' that ev'rybody's lived at least once b'fore. It's...been somethin' of a comfort...knowin' that my soul must be old. Otherwise why wouldn't anybody like me? They could pro'ly sense I'd lived b'fore them. Made them scared o' me, but it's ok, cuz I had ya. I'd go ta that field an' it didn't matter what had happened at school, cuz ya where there, all year 'round, rain, snow er shine. So, near as I can figure we must've had some kinda connection in a past life...maybe more than one."

Aizen's wings began to stain a deep, deep blue, streaked with yellow—worry with deep pangs of alarm. "You have, but…don't go remembering them! Your soul is…it's _too _old," he attempted to explain. "When a soul as old as yours remembers all its previous reincarnations, bad things happen. It is a terrible thing to have so many memories overwhelm your current sense of self. It is painful and causes insanity." His feelers curled inward protectively, as did his legs as his arms came around them, trying to make himself as small as possible without actually changing sizes. "It is...equally painful to watch. So please, _meine Shinji_, don't try to remember."

The blond shrugged, giving a carefree grin. "The past isn't important. I live fer t'day. Fer the moment. It's how I get through shit like high school."

The butterfly blinked at him. He looked completely nonplussed for a long moment, then a smile that seemed to shine with sunlight and pure joy broke across his face and he unwound from his ball to pounce on his mate.

"_Wie habe ich jemals so glücklich? Wie konnte jemand wie ich eine so große Geschenk als diese gegeben werden? Ich liebe dich, mein Shinji, und…und, wenn ich nicht, dich zu verlieren, werde ich mein Lob an die jemals zum Teufel hat diese verursacht zu geben…dieses Wunder für mich, und es ist nicht ein kleines Wunder entweder!" _He held the blond to his chest, kissing him over and over.

No idea why he was being kissed and cuddled, but going with it, Shinji laughed. "I have no clue what ya just said but if this is th' kind o' boyfriend yer gonna be then I might hafta fig're out how ta trigger it more often."

Aizen sat up, straddling his waist and grinning. "Oh that is easy, you simply have to be you. That is all I need."

He then kissed him again, wings fluttering for a moment before something internally set off a chiming alarm. His internal clock.

"Ah, it is time for class. I believe this morning is Psychology, yes? A quiz, if I remember correctly, on Freud. And people say we demons are obsessed with sex." The brunette shook his head, incredulously.

"AH! I didn't do any studyin'!" Shinji dashed into the bedroom to get dressed. "Next time ya decide ta pounce me, make sure I get my homework done first!" He called.

"I will keep it in mind," The butterfly called. "Oh...if you hear my voice telling you answers on the test, ignore it. That's my demonic nature attempting to make sure my—_freund_," he changed the word at the last second, using one he was sure Shinji wouldn't translate properly, "shares all the knowledge I have. However, it won't make sure you actually know it, which is not helpful."

"Uh huh..." Shinji returned dressed in jeans and a shirt similar to the one still in the middle of his living room floor. "I'll do my best." Then he checked the time. "Those wings o' yers...they don't actually work do they? Like...could ya get us 'cross campus in five minutes?"

"Of course they work, and naturally I can get across campus…in _far _less than five minutes," Aizen said, standing up with a look of playful arrogance crossing his handsome features. "Brace yourself," he advised as he opened the door and took his mate in his arms. Then he Flitted, and a split second later was leaning Shinji against the wall right outside his classroom.

The blond looked around, and smirked, "Good, cuz that gives me time ta do this."

He wrapped his arms around Aizen's neck, pulling the taller man into a steamy kiss, right in front of what was left of Ginjou's gang; the lanky second-in-command with the freaky sunglasses, and a few of the other thugs who'd followed the football player. The fullback-turned-female was nowhere to be found, but that probably had to do with the fact that she still remembered and thought of herself as a male, in spite of the memories of everyone else around her having been altered to fit her new gender. Well, everyone else, except Shinji, but he was so wrapped up in enjoying his new boyfriend that she barely crossed his mind. More importantly, he prayed that what they saw was the tall, impossibly handsome, senior who was the captain of the Jujutsu team, not the stunningly, gorgeous demon that was his true form.

For a second, just one mere split instant, the illusion faltered from shock, but then Aizen was kissing back—and yes, all the others saw the transfer student he'd been for the last year and a half. The strange creature must have just been a trick of the light. But the brunette was picking Shinji up, holding him underneath the thighs as he kissed him back passionately. He had his mate. No, they hadn't performed the Marking ceremony yet, but that could come with time. Give the blond human a chance to parade the brunette around in his world for a while, before enveloping him in the affairs of the Court. The butterfly was well-enough ahead of his work to afford a decade or two off if that's what it took to keep his key this time around.

It was much, much later when thin fingers walked across the sculpted planes of a bronzed chest, using each 'step' as a tease. Smoldering, lust-filled brown eyes framed by straw-straight blond hair topped a pierced tongue that flicked out to lick over thin lips. The assailant pulled himself up the athletic torso of his lover with a human purr.

"So-so...d'ya know what day it is?"

The demon he lay on top of opened one eye with a little grin. "Hmmm, no, blondie. Pray tell…is it a human holiday today?" He teased. He knew damn well what day it was and he knew his lover knew it. But it was fun to play pretend.

Shinji giggled, "Silly Chou! One year ago today ya rescued me from that bakamono Gin-joke."

His hands were just about to dive underneath the pajama bottoms his lover wore for an early morning wake-up call when there was an electrio-static fizzle and something black and white bounced off of the wall near the door to land in a heap of limbs like he'd been shot out of a cannon. The blond sat bolt upright, clutching the blankets to his chest in spite of the tee-shirt he wore.

Aizen bolted upright as well, and breathed, "Qio."

The butterfly was frozen in shock for a second before dashing to his comrade, untangling the long limbs and wings and tail. The bat demon moaned in pain, struggling until he was all straightened out, eyes wide and...frightened. They were so bright, even bordering on _terrified_.

"We need you."

Aizen held his shoulders. "What? Qio—"

"We need you! We need you, we need you _now_, So! You're the eldest! You have the Knowledge we need! _We need you!_"

Aizen was taken aback by his vehemence—and by the repetition. Ulquiorra, repeating himself like this, he was thoroughly frightened and disturbed. Something was seriously wrong.

Shinji's hand flew to the side of his head, and he winced, a sudden pain shooting through his temples like the driving of an ice pick. "Y-ya hafta...h'help 'em, So-so." He panted. "Dunno what's wrong...but...AH! Ya gotta...gotta go!"

Aizen looked between the two for a moment, both in pain, before he fluttered to his mate and held his face in his hands. "But...you're hurting. How can I..."

"It's First, Ai," Ulquiorra whimpered.

Aizen's body jerked as though he'd been hit. "I...I will return swiftly. I promise, mate."

"Take me wit'cha." Shinj said suddenly. "I c'n help...I think..."

He frowned, rubbing his temple. It was strange, like a dream, snippets of something filtered into his mind. Blue hair, and claws, and something to do with saving a unicorn or chimera? He wasn't sure, but he felt in his heart if he went to this place he could clear away the fog.

Aizen was hesitant. That much magic could lead to...dangerous things. "But you…"

"There isn't time!" Death cried. "We need you _now_, he comes!"

"Ngh, FINE," the brunette growled.

The butterfly reached out and ripped open a portal. It would be faster than the Demon Flit and easier on his human mate. Picking up Shinji, blanket and all, and cradling him tenderly, he stepped through, Ulquiorra right on his heels.

**End Part 4**

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**A/N 2: **Translations:

_"Wie habe ich jemals so glücklich? Wie konnte jemand wie ich eine so große Geschenk als diese gegeben werden? Ich liebe dich, mein Shinji, und…und, wenn ich nicht, dich zu verlieren, werde ich mein Lob an die jemals zum Teufel hat diese verursacht zu geben…dieses Wunder für mich, und es ist nicht ein kleines Wunder entweder!"_

- "How did I ever get so lucky? How could one such as I be given so great a gift as this? I love you, my Shinji, and…and if I don't have to lose you, I will give my praise to whoever the fuck has caused this…this miracle for me, and it is not a small miracle either!" (German)

_Freund_

- friend, generally assumed term for boyfriend meaning a homosexual relationship, like aibou in Japanese (German)


	26. Rise of the Paladin: Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hey there, minna, because one of you lovely followers was so excited, I was inspired to create the new cover art sooner than I had thought I would be. Again it's a screenshot I've edited to fit the story but, it's something.

folks: head to DA: beautifulrainboweyes to see it.

Well, this is it. The last part of TDK. 4 chapters to go after this. Ah! I'm so excited and yet, so nervous, and also kind of mournful. It's been a long ride. Six months so far. Probably seven by the time the last chapter is up. Where will we go from here? That depends on what I can get finished and edited. I'm sorry to say it's not going to be Bleach. I know a lot of you are waiting for updates on the other stories, but for a while now I've fallen out of Bleach fiction. They aren't abandoned as such, but I have to work out the bug to write the other stuff before I can work on those ones. Who knows...maybe I'll re-read something and be inspired again. In any case, I hope you guys will join us wherever we wind up going. For now, enjoy Shinji traumatizing the Court. Ja ne!

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**Part 5: Rise of the Paladin**

When they stepped out of the doorway between places it was just like walking out of the front door of his home, but the sun was in the wrong position and the season was all wrong. There was snow on the ground, but not nearly as much as had been at home. All around the courtyard men and women in traditional garb dashed about carrying items or clothing. One woman with extremely long black hair almost tripped over them carrying a small child with wide, purple eyes and matching hair in pigtails. That wouldn't have been so shocking if she and the young red-haired boy being dragged along behind the priestess hadn't had large conical ears and bushy fox tails. Concern crossed the blond's face for a moment, but he couldn't dwell on it long when a girl of about seventeen came running up to them.

"Uncle D! You brought him!" She turned her too-bright blue eyes on Aizen, "Uncle So! Papa's lost his mind again! He's gonna—"

There was a scream and the Royal Directive tore through the courtyard like whirlwind and a bucket of cold water at the same time. All of the caretakers froze for a moment and the girl shuddered, looking over her shoulder at the building directly behind the one with the emblazoned symbol of water on the wall.

"Chichi ain't happy...he's been tryin' ta hold him off, but Papa keeps tryin' ta get away. He wants ta go on a..." Her eyes darted around for a moment as though she expected someone to be listening in, "an R. A. M. P. A. G. E." She hissed.

Aizen hissed, both hands burying in his own hair as his wings started to hum, his dust billowing about his feet like fog, spreading quickly outward from his agitation. "Do we know what set him off? Is it like when he lost his mind last time, same symptoms?"

"Roughly the same," Ulquiorra reported, "except much, much worse. He's forgotten _his husband_."

Aizen's heart dropped. "Oh dear living Lords of Hell, not _that, _anything but _that! _Ichigo has got to be going insane, and Conquest—" his eyes came around. "Shinji, stay here with Ulquiorra and the priests, please. It's too dangerous, I've got to get that—that—that _thrice damned cat _under control!" With that he disappeared in a buzz of Demonic Flit.

Shinji turned to the slim pale man as the blue-haired teenager took off after her uncle, and blinked nervously, "Eh, hi? Er...I guess, I should say 'konnichiwa'?"

Ulquiorra gave him a faltering half-smile. Things would be okay. Aizen was here. Aizen always fixed things. That was why he was the oldest. "Many of us here know English, never fear, Shinji-san, though I appreciate the thought. You see, a certain blue-haired moron we know—"

He had to stop and throw up his wings in a shield around them both as more of that glittering dust came sweeping through the courtyard, carrying the deep red of Sousuke's magic. Once he'd shaken the excess off his wings, he continued.

"—has managed to thoroughly fuck up with his Husband, our King, by forgetting that they are married. Your mate is the only one who can set this right before said blue-haired moron finds a way to disobey his husband's direct orders and go off on an insane killing spree."

"Eh...AH CHOO!" The blond sneezed, the red dust sparkling in a shimmer of gold before disappearing, "Seems ta me, he needs a keeper. Sum'body ta keep him in line when he's 'bout ta go off th' deep end. Ne?"

He sneezed three more times in succession, and in the darkness of that nanosecond between inhale and exhale, Shinji saw a book. Bright purple with gold lettering, and high on the farthest shelf of the library, above where even his lover could see without flying. The book floated off the shelf, surrounded by a pale golden light to land in his open hands and flipped open to a page with writing in Cuneiform hieroglyphs. The delicate calligraphy was preserved only by how long it had been since anyone had opened that particular book, as the vellum of which is was made was crackling and threatening to fall to dust. It desperately needed to be re-copied before the volume was lost for good.

"Ah...Bakamono-san, do ya have a library?"

"Yes we do," the ebony haired man wrapped his wings around his shoulders like a cape rather indignantly and gestured, "this way. And please...I am not a monster. Only a demon. And I have a name. If you _must _address me by another term, I am a bat."

"I didn't mean anythin' nasty by it. Ya haven't given me somethin' ta call ya, so I gotta make somethin' up." Shinji shrugged and followed him. "Ya seem ta know my name."

"Of course. All of the Court knows who _you _are. And you can call me what you like, as long as it is not 'monster'. Friends call me 'Qio'," the Fourth added as he led him to the library. "Did you want something in particular?"

The blond grinned and leaned on his shoulder, that mask of confidence easily in place, in spite of only being dressed in a tee-shirt and blanket wrapped around his waist over his boxers. "Mah, much better, Qi-ou-kun. I'll know it when I find it." He dismissed and marched past the bat, worrying his lip and frowning up at the shelves. "Apollo...Caduceus...hmm...Hollow's Eve...Krishna...Ah! Memory-keepers!"

Using his childhood of climbing trees and hanging upside down, Shinji scaled the bookshelf. All the way at the top, just as he'd seen in his vision was the purple book with the gold lettering. The front was pristine but the spine and edges were covered with dust. In a reckless move, he launched himself from his perch to land on his feet in front of Ulquiorra with another grin. He held up his prize.

"Ha, see? Toldja I'd know it when I found it."

Ulquiorra was frozen, and slowly, almost comically, tipped back and fell onto the floor, still frozen. Shinji had just—he could have—if _Aizen found out_—The bat demon twitched, eyes wide and unseeing.

"Oi! Bat-kun!? Qio-san?! Oi!?" Shinji leaned over him blinking. Then shrugged, "Guess he needed a nap. Wonder if there's a place to get a pair of pants around here?"

He wandered back out into the courtyard, looking around and trying to figure out exactly where everybody else had gotten off to. He clutched the book to his chest to protect the delicate pages and peered into the building just across the way—East, from the symbols on the door.

"Ohaiyo? Anyone alive here?"

A mussed red head of hair poked out. "Ah? Oh, Shin-kun! You're here, um, whaddya need?"

A second redhead appeared next to the first, this one with conical ears with fur as red as his hair and slanted eyes with a wide grin. "Shin-kun? Oh! Uncle Shin! Great ta fin'ly meet ya, man!"

"Eh...How come ev'rybody knows m' name?" The blond scratched his head, resisting the urge to pull at the fuzzy ears on top of the boy's head.

"Well 'cuz the whole Court knows ya," the first redhead said, coming out fully, revealing the arm in a sling and the crutch under his good arm. Combined with his shut, scarred eye, he looked a right sorry sight, but for all that he was cheerful. "Anyway, didja need somethin'? Like...I'unno, pants?"

The boy giggled. "I can make him some!"

"Child, you damn well know yer magic wears off after'n hour. Don' even think 'bout it," his father warned.

"Real pants would be preferred." Shinji grinned, and shifted his weight such that the sunlight glinted off the book in an attempt to get the attention off of himself. Again with the 'everybody knows ya' line—it unnerved the blond.

"I'll git some," The older redhead said before disappearing again.

The boy, on the other hand, came floating up on a mist cloud, emulating his mother. "Wha's tha' ya got, pretty Uncle? Looks like an important old book."

"Ah, it's got a...somethin' in it that So-so needs." He looked down at it, frowning. The drive to get the book was gone, and now he had no idea why or what he needed with it. "I hope when I show it ta So-so he'll know what ta do wit' it. Sah, what's yer name?"

The young man came bouncing over on his cloud, tail waving happily. "Me? I'm Shanks. I'm—" his cloud abruptly disappeared and dumped him on the ground with a squeak. Sitting up and rubbing his head, he grinned sheepishly. "I'm still learnin'. Mom c'n make stuff tha' lasts fer like, ever."

"Yer cute, kiddo." Shinji ruffled his hair, and froze, his whole body freezing up as that ice pick drove into his temple again.

Blood. Everywhere. And tails! Someone was...hunting...tails? It made no sense, but there was a hiss and the slice of a blade across his cheek. Externally he stumbled into the wall, and within his mind a woman laughed as she tore the small boy from his arms. The little fox wailed and was abruptly silenced, his body thrown at Shinji's feet like so much garbage, missing his tiny, fluffy orange and white tail. His wide, innocent blue eyes were filled with horror where his head was turned the wrong way on his neck. Shinji screamed and fell to his knees, holding his temples, the precious book skittering across the floor.

"Mah! DAD!"

At the call Renji came running, with more speed than seemed possible given his state of injury, and when he saw Shinji down he swore, casting a quick neutralizing spell used for preventing wars. It removed all painful and unpleasant influences on a person.

Where he had just finished binding Grimmjow so they could fix the stupid moron, Aizen's body froze, jerked, and he twisted around. His mate! He Flitted to him, nearly panicking.

The entrance of his flustered boyfriend had Shinji grinning from where he'd slid down the wall, holding an ice pack Shanks had materialized for him against the temple closest to the doorframe. "Mah, So-so...all finished?"

He seemed a little dazed and there was a smudge on his cheek of something dark brown that could easily have been dirt, but wasn't. His hair was mussed a little, and there was an echo of something in his normally shining chocolate eyes. Otherwise though, he appeared fine, in spite of sitting heavily on the floor in a pair of Gin's clubbing khakis, the kind with glitter sewn into the weave of the fabric.

Aizen collapsed onto his knees, taking his face in his hands and nuzzling into him, sniffing at the smudge. It didn't smell like blood exactly, but he still crooned over it, his wings wrapping them both in a semi-transparent, rainbow-glitter curtain.

"Not finished, don't care, it'll keep" he said shortly, petting him, fussing over him.

"Hey...hey...I'm fine. I just tripped over my own two feet." The blond gave him that crooked grin that was an instant tell that he was hiding something but didn't let the brunette get a word in as he snagged his prize from the library with the hand not on his ice pack, "I was lookin' fer ya anyway. I found a book that might help."

Famine took it in one hand, and for a moment looked between book and mate before reluctantly pulling back to flip it open. His expression turned to wonder and knowledge, before transitioning straight into worry and his gaze swung back around to his mate.

"This. How did you know it would help me?" His hands dropped the book, a flutter of magic holding it up while he grabbed thin shoulders. "Shinji, mate, the love of my existence, tell me you're not _remembering_."

The blond blinked, "I...don't think so...Qio-kun...we were in the library, and...it just seemed to call to me..."

It wasn't an _outright _lie, the book had called to him the second he'd seen it. He just didn't mention that it was the whole reason they'd gone to the library in the first place.

His boyfriend scrutinized him for several long, long moments before kissing his forehead again. "...alright."

The butterfly knew his love was hiding something, but he was really afraid to press. Perhaps it simply had something to do with how he was surrounded by magic and demons and probably wasn't reacting too well.

"So, will it help?" Shinji looked down at the book.

Another kiss was the blond's reward, "Yes, yes, immensely, love. But right now I'm much more worried about you. Are you sure you're alright?"

Shinji brushed him off, actually pushing himself back to his feet, attempting to laugh in the way he always did when the butterfly found him on his tail somewhere. "Really. It's just my clumsiness ag'in. Y'know yer always findin' me sprawled out places. Guess I really am s'posed ta walk upside down. Then mebbe I wouldn't fall so much, ne?"

Aizen frowned deeply, wings flicking back into their paper-flat position. He didn't like it when his mate made light of his hurts, but understood it as part of his nature, his chosen coping mechanism. He cupped his cheek and kissed him gently.

"...very well. Perhaps you should come with me while I make use of what you found."

"Heh...that's where I wanted ta go in th' first place. An' somehow I wound up here instead." The blond scratched the back of his head, and held the ice pack out for Shanks to dissolve. "Thanks, kiddo, but ya might wanna make another one o' those fer Qio-kun when he wakes up from his nap. I can't imagine the floor of th' library bein' too comfy ta sleep on."

"I was never asleep, I merely _died_," Ulquiorra quipped from the ceiling where he was holding his own icepack to his poor head.

Aizen snorted. "Considering you are Death itself, he must have shocked you something terrible," he teased, pulling his mate into his chest.

"You have a most...unusual mate," Ulquiorra mumbled in reply, not about to tell his brother that he'd feared for a second or two he'd have to take this particular mortal early.

"You...wait..._died_?!" Shinji gawked, but enjoying the feeling of his lover's arms around him. "Dude, if I'd'a known ya were that easy ta scare I'd've never jumped off. I'd've at least slid down th' side."

Aizen's wings went stiff and turned quickly brown with worry. "You _what_?!"

"What? Ya know how I like ta climb. Ya didn't expect me ta ignore a prime jungle-gym in th' makin', didja?" Shinji grinned, his bangs sliding over to cover one of his eyes.

"You were careful right? Because if Death carries you off, you know I have to kill him." Said wings fluttered in agitation.

Ulquiorra shuddered. "He will. He really will. I would have flown you up if you had asked, y'know."

"O'course I was careful! I may land on my ass more times'n I'd like ta count, but I've never broken any bones. An' I know ya know that's true cuz o' them 'friends' o' yers that ya always had flyin' over my head." The blond raised an eyebrow at his lover, then turned to the bat. "Nah, it's more fun if I climb. Ask th' kid, he knows what I mean."

Shanks flushed, and ducked back behind his father, knowing that his practice with his mist cloud was something of a conversational piece among the Four. He couldn't ever hold it for more than a few seconds, but couldn't help trying either. How the blond newcomer knew that, the little red kitsune wasn't sure, but it was true. He simply couldn't resist trying to get as high as he could go using only his own magic.

Renji ruffled his second youngest son's hair with a fond smile. Of all of the kits, this one was the closest to his heart, if for no other reason than because of said trouble with magic.

Aizen gave a sheepish chuckle. "Can you blame me for worrying?"

"No, I guess not." Shinji's grin softened and he turned to plant a quick kiss on the butterfly's cheek. "Yer wings're cute when they're pink like that." He teased, pulling away towards the door. "But don't we got a kitty ta save from his husband's wrath? Er somethin' like that?"

"Yes we do. Come." Famine picked up the other man and Flitted.

When they arrived in the North building, Ichigo was pacing back and forth in front of a bound Grimmjow cursing and yelling in some language Shinji didn't understand. It wasn't Japanese or English, but it made his ears burn and abruptly cut off the giggles that always threatened to overtake him when coming out of that movement with his boyfriend. He couldn't help it, the sensation tickled something in his spine down near his kidneys. This time, however, he immediately frowned, and leapt out of Aizen's arms.

"Whoa! Spitfire, how 'bout relaxin' fer a minute? He ain't goin' nowhere, I'm sure."

"Who the Hell are you?" Ichigo glared.

The blond just grinned, "I thought eve'rybody here knew me. Heh. I'm Shinji."

"Fine..._Shinji_, go sit over there and stay out of the way." Power rippled through the courtyard, as per usual when the King gave an order, but something seemed different, as the slim male in the sparkling pants and faded graphic tee-shirt just crossed his arms.

"No."

Ichigo stopped dead. "What?!"

"I said," Shinji put his hands on his hips. "No. We're here ta help. Sah, I'm gonna."

The albino Mage, who'd been holding the end of the binding on the rabid panther, stared. "Did he jus'...?"

"How did you refuse one of my orders?" Ichigo finished the thought.

The blond shrugged, "I've been doin' stuff people told me not ta do my whole life."

Aizen looked his mate over from head to toe before laughing. "Have you forgotten? Did you not know? There is of _course _one who can refuse the Orders," he chuckled. "Just because he cannot be among the Court does not change his intrinsic nature. However, we have much more important matters to deal with just now." Then he crossed the room to give the book to the Mage. "My mate gave me this to help us."

Shiro's eyes lit up as he scanned the book, flipping the pages faster than humanly possible. "This is perfect!"

He looked up at Shinji, who was grinning at an extremely stunned Ichigo. The orangette appeared to be trying to come up with something to say but couldn't. Effectively, the blond's presence was perfect for keeping the overly-worried monarch completely out of their way and occupied. The albino grinned at Aizen.

"Sweet. So, is he th' P-"

Aizen's abrupt, intense, feral snarl prevented him from actually saying the title, and his wings flared high and bright crimson. "We do not say that name! You know not what you may do! With my Key broken came terrible consequences, he is not _that _nor can he be!" His hair came into disarray slightly, and he coughed as he pushed it back. "Now...we need to get to work."

That brought the attention of all other four people in the room, including the feral panther, who looked up with a confused expression and a soft, "Mow?"

Shinji coughed, slightly uncomfortable. "I'll just take his majesty here out ta th' other room while ya work then?"

Ichigo started to protest but Shiro gave him a look, and the orangette let the blond lead him into the next room. On the way, he frowned slightly and asked, "So, you're Aizen's..." The rest of the question was cut off by the shutting of the bedroom door, but Shinji grinned at him beginning to answer as the barrier was shut.

Shiro rolled his eyes. "Sorry. I know it's a sore subject, but he did give us th' book."

The albino held out the spell, pointing to the way it was set up so the butterfly could begin scribing the symbols. They would need to summon the King back after the runes were laid, but somehow, the Mage had the feeling they wouldn't need to waste any energy in calling for his twin. Something about the slender blond just tickled something in the back of his head.

"I know, and that's what worries me," Aizen replied softly, runes already writing themselves quick and precise on the ground in the necessary places. "If he is being Awakened by being in proximity to the magic of the Court I fear this life will end up as the others. I...I cannot bear to lose him again Shiro. If he suicides again...I will follow him. If necessary I will _make you _give me a Directive in order to succeed. I can do so to you, though I cannot command the King similarly, and I will not endure another many lifetimes of waiting, Shiro. It will drive me mad. Beyond mad."

Grimmjow struggled, snarling, feeling the magic building.

The albino wiped his nose in a sniff, knowing unfortunately that Famine could do exactly as he said, but not at all comfortable with the idea. It was a subject that ran entirely too close to the Mage's heart. So, he rolled his shoulders to cover up his irritation and spoke in a clipped tone. "Well, we'll just hafta make sure he don't. If he's bein' Awakened, we'll handle it. That's why ya ain't Marked him yet, innit?"

Holding the book in the hand he hadn't used to dismiss his nerves, Shiro took the other across Conquest's brow, painting runes on the golden flesh. Each one glowed a different color as they filled with power to be released at the appropriate time.

Grimmjow tried to struggle, tried to smudge it, but the brunette held him hard with magic. "Yes...that and his soul could not accept it. Not without Awakening forcibly, which is guaranteed to drive him insane."

"So...maybe he's Awakenin' so ya _can _Mark him?" The Mage smacked the First across the temple, far from any of the runes, and cast a sidelong glance at his partner. "I've seen th' way th' two of ya look at each other. An' I've only known him in person fer a couple seconds."

"Of course. I love him, and I'm blessed that he loves me. But I'm afraid of what may happen to him even if he Awakens gradually. His lives have been horrifying and traumatic." Aizen added to the designs on the floor when Grimmjow quieted, lip curled, tail twitching.

"Yah, yah, I know. But, Grasshopper, if he _is _the you-know-what, that's why. He's gotta be stronger'n th' rest o' us." Shiro knelt to continue anointing the panther with runes.

"But do you think that could mean...do you suppose he's ready to Awaken now that we're together?" The butterfly hardly dared hope, laying the rest of the spell-work and gathering the potion's ingredients and already putting them together to feed to the two and allow the memories to transfer.

The albino shrugged, "Maybe. All I c'n say is don't fight it. Look't what happened ta Red. He tried not ta give inta his nature as War, an' what happens? Th' night he Awakens, he killed sum'body." Dusting off his hands, the leftover powder from the butterfly's wings always stained his fingers, and standing back up, he surveyed the room. "I think we're r—"

He was cut off by the bedroom door opening. "Hai, see? Toldja they were ready fer ya!"


	27. Rise of the Paladin: Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hey there, minna! Been tied up with an RP group over on Tumblr, check out the tag "Sgrub game v. 2.0" for all the shenanigans. We're writing like crazy over there. lol Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy! Ja ne!

* * *

Shinji pushed Ichigo, who was bared to the waist and also covered in immaculate runes, through the door. Truly the King's pattern was the perfect duplicate to prepare him for the transference. Frankly, it shocked the Mage, who caught himself looking between his twin and the book several times before he cleared his throat. Ichigo blushed and shrugged, the unspoken question remaining unanswered in the air. The blond stepped over proudly to stand next to his mate with a smug grin, hands on his hips. The strangest part was the soft glow to his fingertips, but it dissipated so quickly, Shiro wasn't entirely sure he'd seen it.

Famine gave his mate an extremely concerned look, but didn't say anything. Not when he was so pleased with himself. Instead, he gave a bowl with half the potion to Ichigo and yanked on Grimmjow's horns until he was forced to open his mouth from having it pulled back so far.

"Be prepared. All of his memories will hit you at once when the transfer begins. Do not block them or we'll have to start all over again, and if we do this more than once or twice it will destroy his mind," the brunette cautioned before he poured the purple liquid straight into Conquest's gaping maw and forced him to swallow with another spell.

Ichigo nodded and treated the disgusting potion like a shot throwing it back in one go. He smacked his lips a few times, trying to get the residual taste from his mouth. Then everything hit him, and Shinji stepped up to grab his shoulders as the only person in position to do so. The magic shot through the King, and he collapsed, only the blond's hands holding him up. Like a curtain of water, the orangette was bathed in a multi-hued glow. Where it met Shinji's skin as opposed to Ichigo's, the magic was repelled by a soft gold light, but neither affected male was paying attention to it.

Across the room Grimmjow was covered in the same multi-hued glow, and his eyes were blotted out with the brilliant rainbows of light as his body convulsed and bucked in its bindings, tail lashing and mouth open in a silent scream.

Aizen held him, mimicking his mate and noting the glow that protected the blond. A similar light, in soft crimson, protected the Third where he touched the First. There was something to be said about that but it would have to wait until later, when he and his mate could discuss the ramifications at length.

It took what seemed like hours for all of Conquest's memories to tuck themselves safely into the King's mind, but when they had, the glow faded away, draining from all parties involved like nothing ever had been there. Shinji stumbled a little, the full weight of the orangette falling back against his chest, but he managed to stay standing, a feat which left him grinning at his lover as he guided Ichigo to the floor gently. At the same time, as naked as he had been the first time they'd had to bring him back, Grimmjow too slumped in his bonds, much like the King.

"Well, I'll be..." The blond chuckled, stepping away from the exhausted monarch. "He's naturally blue. Heh." Giving the former-feline an appraising eye, Shinji smirked, "Yer bigger, So-so."

Aizen slid down to the floor, arm thrown over his eyes, and chuckled weakly. Unlike Ulquiorra, his wings could not function as supports, and at times like this he truly regretted that. "I'm flattered you would say so, love. I…uh...I am rather weak at the moment...could you hand Ichigo to his twin and help me up?"

Having already done that, Shinji easily crossed the room to give his lover a hand, though touching the other male sent electric shocks through his arm, and had sparklers going off in the back of his skull. If he winced, he controlled it very well, but the entirety of his mind felt like it was on fire.

Aizen, head still spinning himself, didn't catch it, and even if he had, it was too late. His magic was un-channeled, unfettered, free and unbound, and when he realized it, he slammed the gates on it shut, eyes shooting to his Mate's face, filled with worry and fear.

Master of the human mask, the blond grinned, his piano-teeth pearly against his skin. "Ya look like ya could use some coffee, ne? An' mebbe, one o' those scones ya like so much."

Aizen sighed. He was not on top of his game, and for once unable to see through that façade. He leaned on his mate and kissed his shoulder. "Yes...I think that might bolster me a bit," he chuckled. "Enough to get home, anyway."

"There's a kitchen 'round here, yeah?" Shinji wrapped his arm around his lover's waist.

"Hai," Shiro answered, also feeling a bit pale, but handling it better due to his position in the Court. "Just go 'cross th' courtyard an' it's th' second door on th' left in the Common Buildin'."

"Thanks."

The blond guided his butterfly out the door as the Mage gathered first his twin and then Conquest to arrange them comfortably on the bed where they could sleep off the effects of the spell.

Famine tried not to lean too heavily on the blond, and when a dark shadow appeared at his other side to put his arm over their shoulder he was confused for a second before his wings gave a loud buzz of annoyance. "I'm not an invalid, Death!"

"I'm aware."

"I am just fine!"

"I'm sure."

The butterfly gave another buzz-flutter. "Then why are you babying me?!"

"Because I don't dare go near the Royal Chambers and couldn't do a damn thing to help other than fetch you." Emerald eyes peered up into dark chocolate, and the two held the connection for a few moments, before Aizen looked away, too tired to truly fight.

"...damn. _Fine_," he huffed.

It was true, Qio did hate to feel useless, and there really was nothing for the slim demon to do until Shiro exited the North building. The Third just hated feeling like he couldn't take care of himself. He'd been on his own perfectly fine for centuries. One measly spell wasn't going to knock him down for long, of that he was damn sure. However, there was something to be said for being comforted by those he called family.

Shinji giggled. "Yah, best ta let th' lovebirds rest a bit. Yer Mage'll be needin' ya when he's done wit' 'em though. He looked paler'n normal."

His eyebrows wiggled at the joke, completely ignoring the fact that he shouldn't know what 'normal' was for the albino, nor should the statement of his title have carried the importance it did. A normal human, even one that had the potential to be Awakened, should _not _be able to make reality shiver like that.

Ulquiorra knew it was a Bad Thing when his wings faltered and his horns vibrated to set a ringing alarm off inside his head, but with the internal shrieking he couldn't think what it was or if he ought to tell Aizen, so he just shook his head. "Ah...yes...I will...but let's get you to the kitchen first."

That the butterfly was alert enough to notice. "Qio, are you-"

"_JUST FINE_," he growled. "I'm sure my mate simply loosed a little magic again, you know how his spells affect me."

"Eesh..." Shinji blinked and sucked his teeth, "Ya need ta _relax, _Batty-boy. Keep jumpin' like that and y'ill wind up killin' yerself ag'in."

Again there was a ripple, only it was soothing, like the waves of a pond on a hot summer afternoon, and it washed over them both with the sensation of sunshine. Aizen immediately melted into the feeling, eyes fluttering once again.

However, like a struck tuning fork, Ulquiorra's horns again vibrated, producing a high, clear tone that made his eyes cross. No matter how slight or soothing the ripple, it always somehow rebounded between his horns and made him dizzy and wobbly.

"I can't help myself when my internal magic alarm keeps going off," he grumbled, head aching even as his body tried to relax.

"That seems odd. Why would yer 'internal magic alarm'," The blond said in the same exact manner as the Fourth, "be goin' off in th' first place?" He held the door to the common building open so Ulquiorra could guide Aizen in first.

"I don't know. All I can discern is there is heavy magic in the area, which doesn't help considering my mate is the Court Mage. Thus I am constantly around magic. I need to find that spell to turn my alarm _off_," the bat grumbled as he guided the butterfly to a nearby chair and helped him into it before fluttering up to one of his own special perches installed on the ceiling, hanging upside down and wrapping his wings like a cape.

"Well, have ya tried just...like...askin' fer it ta be turned off?" Shinji moved about the kitchen as if he lived there—handed a cup to the coffeepot, pulled a plate from the exact cabinet where they belonged, placed a scone given to him by the freezer on it, and offered it to the toaster oven—all as though he worked with living appliances every day of his life. Then he turned and looked up at Death. "I dunno, mebbe sum'thin' like 'Gods of silence, hear my prayer, make th' sound that isn't there vanish from within my mind b'fore I wind up goin' blind'."

Both Horsemen looked at him in surprise and shock for a moment, then a soft black pulse rippled over Ulquiorra. "...Shinji. What you just did...you...Aizen?"

The Third pulled his human to him. "My sweet mate, my darling love...you just cast a spell on him. Which you should not be able to do, not that it's a bad thing. As soon as I've recovered, we need to leave to prevent the magic-infested air of the Court from changing you any further. We wouldn't want you accidentally cursing those jocks while trash talking, now would we?"

"Eh...uh...ok. As soon as ya've got yer strength back, we c'n go...I guess."

The blond frowned, unsure what it was that he'd done exactly, but if his lover was concerned about it, he figured that he probably shouldn't tell them he'd read it in a book yesterday. Or at least he thought he had. He remembered reading the book. In fact, he remembered reading it often, regularly referencing it for things, though he wasn't sure what exactly he'd need wolfsbane and dragonsblood for at college.

Aizen ate his scone, drank his coffee, and spirited his mate back home as fast as he could Flit. He needed to protect him from Awakening...if it could even be stopped now.

Shinji giggled, as he always did when they Flitted, "I don' know why yer so scared. I'm fine. So what if I c'n catch snippets o' stuff. If they help an' ain't hurtin' me, what's th' big deal?"

Aizen simply kissed him, much to the blond's confusion. How could he tell him what he suspected? How could he _say _'I think you're Awakening and if it drives you insane like every other time we both will die'? He couldn't. So he just rocked his mate and prayed, for the first time, his calculations were incorrect.

"C'mon," The lithe younger male twisted in his lover's arms until he had one hand trapped between both of his own so he could drag the brunette back to their bedroom, dismissing the undercurrent of worry hanging between them. "We've still got an anniversary ta celebrate!"

It was a week or so later, as once again the Veil began to thin as the days marched steadily towards Samhain, when Shinji had his first migraine since returning home. He was coming out of another of Professor Marechiyo's required but irritating current events classes, and joking with a young man also from Japan with long, painfully straight white hair. He'd transferred in and been assigned to the blond for orientation, finding that working with his lover meant his grasp of Japanese was much better than that of any of his peers. So, when Jushiro cracked a joke about his head being too full, the pale Sophomore practically panicked as Shinji fell to his knees, clutching his temples.

Immediately, the paler student flew to his side, rubbing his back and calling his name, but the blond didn't hear him. He was lost for the moment in a vision of crusaders bearing torches crying out for murder and destruction in the name of a god created by a heretic and perpetuated by fanatics.

It took several minutes, and Jushiro violently shaking his shoulder, for the vision to fade. Slapping on his signature grin, Shinji climbed back to his feet and brushed off his classmate's worries. He laughed, "Mah. I'm fine. Just all that BS Mary-chan's shovin' at us, ne?"

The snowtop didn't seem quite convinced, but there was nothing that he could do about it, so he simply mumbled, "Must be."

The two went on about their day as though nothing had happened, at least on Shinji's part. Little did the blond realize how his cheeks had begun to sink in, and circles were growing under his eyes. All this merely got worse as the days passed. Knowing something of chronic illness himself, Jushiro tried to get him to acknowledge what was going on, without much success.

"Hirako-san, I can't help noticing you're looking almost as pale as I am today."

The white-haired male commented three days before Halloween, when the blond finally had gotten to a point where his smile was strained and his energy was limp. How he managed to hide it from his over-attentive boyfriend was beyond the foreign transfer student.

"Mah." Shinji said weakly, leaning against the wall of the library, where they were waiting for Jushiro's other half, a shameless flirt from their class with a heart of gold and an odd sense of fashion.

"Don't tell me you're fine, Hirako-san. You are anything but fine. Believe me, I know fine, and you are not it." The snowtop scolded.

Huffing, the blond looked away. "It's nothin' ta worry about. I'll _be_ fine once it's over."

"Once what's over?" The one they were waiting for stepped out of the building with his odd straw hat and ballet pink hoodie covered in cherry blossoms.

"Hirako-san is once again denying that anything is wrong with him, when clearly, there is!" Jushiro frowned.

The lanky basketball player, with wavy brunette hair that reached the middle of his back, ran a hand over his chin, scratching the slight scruff. "Well, if he's not comfortable talkin' about it, I don't see how it's our business, Jyuu-chan. But we should try to keep some meat on his bones, and probably see if we can't get him to laugh a bit more."

"Oi, Shunsui! Don't talk 'bout me like I ain't…even…here?"

Shinji trailed off, hand flying to his head as he pushed off from the wall to stumble several steps forward, overcome with dizziness and that blinding pain erupting between his temples. He was completely unaware of the other two stepping up to try and grab him as he crashed to his knees in the middle of the sidewalk.

Within his mind, the blond saw a great winged beast, half lion, half eagle soaring over his head, but on its tail was a cloaked figure with a silver cross hanging outside the almost black jerkin. The figure raised a crossbow and Shinji felt himself jump in the way of the bolt, letting the griffin escape. The hunter wrenched the protruding wood from the blond's shoulder and tossed him against a tree, full intending to shoot him again, but his hands flew up and a gold light surrounded them.

"Diana, Huntress of the Moon, protect Your Paladin from this doom, turn the bolt and bend the blade, let this wretched soul be saved!" Inside the vision, he spoke perfect English, but to the two trying to help him, it was some gibberish that combined Latin and German.

Light exploded from him, knocking Jushiro to the ground...well, almost. The white-haired student landed in Shunsui's lap. The two smiled at each other nervously, then immediately ran back to Shinji's aid.

"Hirako-san! Are you alright?" Jushiro hesitated to touch the shaking blond, and Shunsui pulled off his hoodie to drape over Shinji's shoulders.

Feeling the bolt of magic from the cafe where he'd been waiting, Aizen shot up. The only thought in his head was _Magic. Magic on the Campus. MATE!_ With no further input, his body took off, and all of a sudden he was there, Shinji cradled in his arms, crooning in German and stroking his head, soothing vermillion magic weaving around him.

The blond sobbed, "Whyyy~!? Why'd they hafta kill it!? Th' feathers don't do nothin'!"

Again Jushiro and his cushion exchanged a look, "We'll...ah...leave you to it, Aizen-san." The white-haired student said, bowing and pulling away from the pair.

"So…Jyuu-chan, I hear you like candy?" The tall, long-haired brunette threw his arm around the paler male's shoulders as they walked away, their conversation drifting away on the wind.

Aizen rocked him. The only creature whose feathers had no use were—"Griffins were powerful, strong, defenders of home and those they called friends. In order to wage war on any those the griffins protected, they...had to get around them. They chose to do so by...destroying them all. And taking the...the...wings as their...their trophies." He bent his head over the smaller man, holding him close, wings tucked around them both in a curtain of brownish-red pain that was almost invisible to the outside world.

"I know! It's not fair! All it was tryin' ta do was make a nest...why? Why are they so evil?" Tortured, searching eyes looked up into the butterfly's face. He was lost, more hurt by the death of the creature in his mind than he had been by his own abuse.

"Because they are stupid, arrogant and greedy. Narcissistic and of the belief that they are Gods. And anything that does not fit that worldview must be destroyed." Famine pressed their foreheads together. "They're all gone, my love. All of them. I could not save them, though I tried. Humans propagate so _quickly_," his voice lowered to a snarl, "I could never kill them off fast enough! So I made them suffer, but it did not bring them back. I cannot bring them back. Not anymore."

"Wh-what about th'...th' others?" He whimpered, clutching Aizen's shirt. "So many others...gone...all gone...an' I...an' I...why wasn't I here? Why couldn't I save 'em? It's m' job...I was s'posed ta..." He was panting, calming and mumbling now, collapsed against his lover as the pain drained away.

"You were not yourself and that was not your job. T'was mine. T'was I who failed, not you, my love," Aizen murmured, bundling him up in his arms and taking him home.

He was Awakening, there was no mistaking it. And such events could not be stopped, so what was he to do now? It was mind-numb instinct that found his Flit ending at the Shrine instead of the apartment where the two had been living for the last year. The brunette didn't even notice as he entered the South building and into his sanctuary.

"But...I'm th'..." He trailed off, passed out against his lover's chest, but still trembling in his unconsciousness. His lips still moved, silent words, mumbling of the horrors he saw behind his eyelids.

Aizen whispered a spell to quiet his mind, to put the memories back where they belonged—in the darkness of the past lives. Still, he knew it was only a temporary measure. He tucked Shinji into his bed, then sat on the edge and buried his face in his hands, not an inch from crying. His lover, his soul mate, was going to die…again. He didn't care about his own death, after this long he fucking _welcomed_ it, but not Shinji. Not as he was just on the edge of coming into himself, of gaining his sanity and restoring his soul! The warlock deserved so much more than he could ever have done to her for this!

A cough came from the doorway of the bedroom, subtle, but with an air of power.

Aizen's wings snapped out and alert even as his head came up in startled reflex, though when he saw his King standing there he quickly blinked away the glossiness of the threatening tears and cleared his closed throat.

"Some—" he swallowed to loosen the tight muscle, he sounded so hoarse and raspy, "Something I can do for you, my King?"

"You seem to have a problem that is affecting the entire Court, Famine. It's not every day my brother has to cast a bubble over the library to keep his lover from running into the wall. So, instead I must ask, is there something I can do for you?" Ichigo leaned against the doorframe, worry on his face, and his arms crossed over his chest. The vein in his temple was throbbing, a telltale sign that the monarch had a pounding headache.

The butterfly's resulting chuckle was weak, hollow. "I apologize, but in this instance, I do not think so. My mate is Awakening. Due to the trauma in his lives, the pain in his memories thanks to that foul curse keeping me separate from him, this will drive him insane, just as it has every time before. It is the horror of what it means to have a broken Key, that they die so close to becoming who they were meant to be—" his voice broke again, and it took him a few minutes of dead silence and several hard swallows to continue. "That being the case, he will t-take his own life, and n-nothing I nor anyone else can do will st-stop him. He is, after all, th-the Paladin," a sort of hysterical laugh followed this as he pressed one hand to his eyes. "He is literally the _only _one who can refuse your direct Orders, so even your Directive not to take s-suicide or to stay sane would fail to help."

"What if he didn't remember?"

The orangette frowned, looking over the slim blond that was both so familiar and so foreign at the same time. Until the Paladin truly Awakened, the figure in the King's mind remained fairly shapeless with no face, but being in front of the soul who would be the Paladin was like being with an old friend, someone who always knew how to laugh when he tripped over his feet.

"If there were a way to do it, I would," Aizen said with a deep sigh. "But such memories cannot stay repressed long. I should know. I've tried...so many, many times." He drew his hand down the troubled cheek to find it wet with tears shed from the depths of the man's nightmares.

"Well...what about not repressing them? Grimm's been fine since we did that memory transfer thing, and," He blushed deeply, shifting his foot against the floor. "we've been closer than ever now that I can see what he's seen."

"The...Memory Keeper!" Aizen groaned, this was why he needed his Paladin! Then he stood and with no warning went to the nearest wall and bashed his head into it several times. "How could I have been so stupid as to forget?! It's been less than a month! Oooh, I have been such a moron for so _long_—_"_

"WHOA! Stop that!" An invisible and spongy barrier sprung up between the butterfly and the wall as the King sprung forward and uncrossed his arms. "Not only is that bad for the wall, we need your noggin intact for the spell, don't we?"

"Shiro has the book and recipe," Aizen muttered, hand to his reddened forehead, but he didn't test the barrier. He already knew he'd bounce clear across the room.

"Then, I'll go get him, and the things we need, and you will stay here, be good and tend to your mate." The orangette turned to leave, only to look over his shoulder, "I fully expect him to be Marked as soon as he's not going insane, ne? The last thing any of us need is to have to chase you down because the two of you had a fight—don't tell me you two don't fight, all couples fight—and you can't find him because you haven't Marked him yet."

Famine drew himself up to his full height and sniffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Unmarked or not, I will never be _unable _to find my own mate, not now that the curse is lifted and I'm at full power. There is no place on earth where Famine and Death cannot reach," The honorific was added as an afterthought, "my liege."

"Yeah," Ichigo chuckled, "But _I'm _not the only one the Paladin can defy." He walked off to gather his brother, and the other three horsemen just in case, leaving the pair to their solitude for a while.

The butterfly simply sat on the edge of the bed, his bravado deflated at being reminded of just how special his key was out of the four of them, and stroked his mate's hair. The touch made Shinji whimper in his sleep, his brow furrowing and sweat making him clammy. So the brunette pulled away to mix the potion while he waited. It was the only thing that he could do to keep himself busy as everything else had to be done at the time of the spell-casting, because it was dependent on the runes the Mage would draw from the Ley Lines under the Shrine.


	28. Rise of the Paladin: Chapter 3

**A/N: **Winding down now. Only two chapters to go. It's been a long ride, but a lot of fun I think. Enjoy, minna! Ja ne!

* * *

In a very short while, Ichigo returned, Shiro in tow, along with Renji, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. The bat carried an icepack where he actually had flown into the wall when the butterfly and his mate arrived, the tiger limped in with restraints slung over his shoulder as he was still healing from having to help in this way with the panther, who, in turn, brought everything else—stones, candles, chalk for marking the floor, paint for marking the bodies, and sustenance in the form of chocolate and wine. The Mage set up the book that had been so helpful the first time on the bedside table, frowning at Shinji and muttering something about idiot insects while blotting away some of the sweat and casting a minor analgesic spell to numb the near constant migraines he knew the smaller male was enduring. The King directed the others to stand about the room, Renji at the door, Grimmjow next to the window, and Ulquiorra by the bed, behind Aizen.

"Gin has the children practicing shielding in the East building." Ichigo informed the butterfly, then turned to his brother, "So, how do we do this? I was sort of...blown through it last time."

Shiro looked up, then handed his twin a pot of paint, "Here, start inking the _bug _while I do th' same ta his mate. Jus' follow th' symbols in th' book here." He pointed to the page that had 'Memory Keeper' scrawled across the top.

Aizen's eyebrow went up. "Dare I even ask what has you so upset?"

His voice was dry, even removed. It was an odd, even, cold tone none of them had ever heard before. It made Grimmjow's tail fluff up, and Ulquiorra's ears flatten. Even Renji shuddered. Said bug climbed off the bed to give Shiro full access, and his eyes were like his voice...oddly cold and distant. Shut off. Yes, he was completely shut off from the others, his inner fire and emotion, any connection to the outside environment cut off like a burnt-out light bulb. This was even worse than the black wings, and it frightened the other Horsemen.

Shiro grabbed his chin. "That." He jerked it, glaring into that dead-panned expression. "M th' fuckin' Mage! I C'N SEE YER STUPID, ALL THOUGHT-OUT PLAN B'FORE YA EVEN FINALIZE IT!"

Disgust radiated from the albino. He wouldn't speak of it, refused to acknowledge it, and even more, refused to meet his twin's sad—too sad—eyes. He would not recite why the butterfly's plans for suicide struck a chord so deep within him that he couldn't even bear the connection he shared with the one person who'd been at his side since before he was born. Turning away, he shuddered, going back to pulling runes out of the air and placing them around the room in soft glowing colors. He was muttering under his breath again, and if a few of his motions are more choppy than usual, it only served to punctuate the fact that something about this situation greatly upset him in deep ways that none of the others had ever seen before. The only one not reacting to the volatile attitude was Ichigo, who was very quiet as he gestured for Aizen to remove his shirt.

The Third's mouth just slightly curved up as he bared himself to the waist. "We're hoping we don't have to go down that road," he replied serenely, legs crossing at the ankles as he hovered in the air. "Grimmjow, kindly make the circles. I can't, as my magic is going to go wild and the circles would dissolve before it was time."

The First nodded and started sketching with the chalk, deathly quiet with his velvet-padded footsteps as the whole Court reflected on that something. They knew of course. How after the monarch's twin little sisters there had supposed to be another baby—a little boy—but he hadn't survived. It had been devastating to their mother, and within the next year she'd taken her own life, swallowing the entire bottle of anti-depressants her doctor had given her to deal with the miscarriage.

They'd learned all there was to learn about King and Mage once it had become obvious who the twins were. But it wasn't to be talked about. No one mentioned, _ever_, why the pair had grown up without a mother from the age of nine. In fact, the only time anything about that lost little brother had been brought up was when the King's heirs had been born, sixteen years ago. Because Shiro had asked very quietly if maybe they couldn't name one of the boys Kon in honor of that missing sibling? So they had, and it was explained then why the blond-haired boy with the orange highlights had been so special to the albino. Not that he loved the dark-haired, ice-blue-eyed twin any less. Kon was the heir; Tensa would be the next Mage. That gave the more stoic child an equally special place in Shiro's heart, but they all knew that Kon was almost more dear to him than his own twin.

The sole reason for that being that it had been Shiro who had discovered their mother's cold, dead body on that rainy June afternoon when he'd challenged and beaten Ichigo in a race to get home from spending the day with Uncle Kisuke and Yama-jii. Goat Face hadn't yet been home from work, but Yama-jii was there immediately, pulling the albino boy into his arms and trying to soothe his screaming. That was really the beginning of Shiro's obsession with demons and magic, because to start with, before he'd gotten a grasp on what the Cycle of Rebirth really meant, he'd been driven to try and find a way to bring their mother back from the dead. Or at least, to contact her from this plane of existence. He'd never been successful at it, and over the years the drive had dwindled, but he never stopped researching, on the off chance he just might have found something that could have fulfilled that childish heartfelt plea.

None of that mattered to Aizen at the moment though. He'd made up his mind. If he couldn't have his mate this time around…if the beautiful blond took his own life…the Third horseman would follow him into the grave. And he _wasn't _going to change his mind. No matter how the Mage and the King felt about it. He had been alone too long for any other option to be viable if this failed.

Ichigo's voice was heavy but barely above a whisper, "It doesn't change the fact that we would be lost without you, So-so."

He finished his drawing with a flourish, and stepped back behind Renji. Though he could easily balance his brother, the King couldn't interfere in the inner-workings of his Court. He had to remain objective, and he knew, if this didn't go as planned, he knew if he was part of it, he'd inflict his Will on them both, trapping them in a state where neither could move forward nor could anyone send them back.

Shiro took the potion from the windowsill, poured it into two cups, and stalked over to the butterfly. "Just so ya know..." He growled, dangerous and low, as he handed the brunette his cup, "If this don't work, I will never fergive ya." His eyes flashed, and he whirled back around to collect himself and his magic before working the spell. "Qio, I need th' Paladin awake. C'n ya rouse him 'nough ta drink th' potion?"

"Then this had better work, ne?" It was a simple reply to both of the twins; again, rather serene. Aizen seemed to have _gone _somewhere inside himself, somehow, in preparation for the influx of memories.

The bat simply came forward to remove the spell-induced sleep, gently shaking his shoulder and coaxing the blond up until he could drink and swallow the potion without choking. The butterfly downed it at the same moment Shinji did.

Shiro immediately set to work Grounding the magic that began to whip about the room, "Lord of Stones, Gods of Earth, bring balance and re-birth, keep the—oh screw it!" He cursed, and continued, _Goddamnit all, do as your told!_

The energies flung about the room settled into a complicated weaving pattern that only the Mage could sort out, feeding the memories of one into the mind of the other, and linking to two even further than they already were. The blond on the bed came fully conscious, staring wide-eyed at the butterfly and he reached forward with one hand, the fingertips glowing in gold more brightly than they ever had before.

Famine, eyes swirling with the same rainbow in his wings, reached for and took that out-stretched hand—then his power exploded. In an absolutely blinding array of color, his magic swirled within the circles, being channeled, and shrieking when, joining with gold and memory, it was borne back to its source. The never-ending loop of magic and memory, of lives and pain, seemed to go on forever. Renji, due to his injuries, had collapsed against the wall from the backlash, eased to the ground by the King, who stood as the final barrier between the circle of magic and the outside world. Grimmjow ducked his head behind his arm, shielding himself physically from the blinding light, and even Ulquiorra had to hide within his wings.

At last, hours later, the final life before the current one's memories were brought into the butterfly's mind on a ribbon of gold and yellow, and Aizen slumped where he knelt on the bed, wings giving weak flickers.

Shinji panted heavily, eyelids fluttering, fairly certain he'd passed out and been reawakened several times in the process, but it felt like a weight larger than anything he could comprehend was lifted from his mind. He felt light, airy almost; like he could fly if he wanted to, and it helped him to gather himself together. He reached with his other hand, pulling the exhausted Third to his chest. Their first kiss was soft, the joining of two souls in one place, but it ignited more, the fire between them fanned by Shinji's new-found wind.

Aizen, on the other hand, was completely exhausted, though he tried to match his lover's enthusiasm. It seemed Shinji would be doing the work this time, something that the brunette, as a gentleman, tried not to let happen too often.

All it took to remind the Paladin that they both were too tired to truly enjoy one another was the waning of his butterfly's strength against his embrace. So, the blond merely smiled and cupped his lover's cheek, brushing his thumb under one thoroughly worn out eye. A line of gold appeared following his movement, and he continued tracing Aizen's cheekbone down to his jaw in the way of the ancient Egyptian pharaohs. His index finger added a second line from the corner of the Third's eye, curling up to meet his brow.

All the while he murmured, "Always be Mine, _Liebling_."

Famine chuckled softly and kissed the wrist in front of him. "I will never be anyone else's, dear one." His wings folded flat, and he curled up as he hadn't done since he was a child, eyes drooping. "I...want to Mark you...later. When we have more energy..."

"Ya already have, my love...ya already have." Shinji chuckled tiredly, as the kiss blossomed into a Milkweed flower on the inside of his wrist.

Oh they'd consummate the Marking later, multiple times if the Paladin had anything to say about it, but for now, he was content in just staying curled with his butterfly, and letting the rest of the universe slip away.

Ichigo coughed lightly to get everyone else's attention and Shiro nodded, leaning heavily against the wall near Ulquiorra. The albino smiled, one eye closed. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a candy bar, took one square of it and handed the rest to the bat while he nibbled. In response, Death pulled his mate, and the candy, into his protective wings and nibbled on the bar, tail twitching. The Mage tried to take a step toward the door on his own and failed miserably. The bat promptly picked him up in his arms, offering him the rest of the chocolate bar from where it was clamped in his teeth, already stalking from the room.

Renji and Grimmjow supported one another, exhausted just from the backlash and the lightshow. As they reached the door, the King stepped in to bolster them both, holding one feline on each side, and leaving the Third and his mate to their much deserved privacy.

Once the door was shut, Aizen pulled his mate into snuggle and dropped into an exhausted, busy sleep. No dreams for him tonight, he had memories to sort!

It took two days for the pair to resurface to the land of the living, but when Shinji did, he yawned with a noise that only the completely content make. He scooted himself into a sitting position, the brown mess of hair that was his lover's head slipping down into his lap. The sunlight from outside told him it was early afternoon, and the sound of the birds told him that he had exactly twenty-four hours before Samhain. What he didn't hear were the sounds that made his heart break. There were no fairy bells, or siren songs. No whistling dryads, or humming fauns. No unicorns. No dragons. No selkies. No merfolk. The world around him was teeming with life, but the melody of magic was missing. In essence, the Plane of the Living...was dead.

It was the same horrendous, gruesome silence Aizen had been living with for thousands of years. It was the sound that had driven him to the cusp of madness once or twice, that sound of silence. He had grown accustomed to it, more or less, over the years. But nothing sounded quite the same. He shifted slightly at his mate's movement, but grumbled a bit, wings fluttering as his eyelids tried to open without much success.

"We need to fix this, So-so." The blond looked around, frowning.

The sakura tree outside their window cried silently into the breeze and a Shinji let a tendril of the magic he now understood flow from his fingers to soothe her pain. Ten thousand petals, and not a one worn by the spirit who should have lived within her branches. There was a sudden shift in the air, and it brought an even deeper frown to the Paladin's face. He nudged his mate.

"So-so...we have a visitor."

_That _got him bolting upright, eyes wide and wings flared. He wasn't as intimidating as say Ulquiorra or Renji, but it was still a warning sign that regardless of how peaceful he may look, he'd let _nothing_ harm his mate.

The shadow that separated from the wall was bowed as low to the ground as it could get, its belly touched the floor, and its tail actually dragged for once. "We're ssso very sssorry." A soft voice, hissed. "Ssshe had our treasure...Forsssed usss to sssubmit to her...we ssspied for her...killed for her...did dessspicable thingsss for her...we cannot give back to you what you lossst, but we cannot help begging for forgivenesss."

The nue was strong, old, powerful, with deep purple markings, and a heavy ruff. Its knuckles were worn from travel, and its brow deeply furrowed. The snake that was its tail, curled around those massive forearms, eyes focused on the space beneath the bed. The eighteen years since its last visit to the Shrine had not been kind to the aged dreamweaver.

"This is...I see. Shinji, this is your jurisdiction, love," Aizen said gently, turning to his mate, though the edges of his wings began to darken considerably. "You are the Paladin, the Protector. Forgiveness for any misdeeds, especially when held captive, is only yours to give."

"Well, what'd he do?" Shinji asked, looking between the creature and his mate.

"We are responsible for the extinction of many of the magical races. The warlock-who-has-no-name conscripted us to lure Beings to where humans could take advantage of them, and collect parts of them for use in her spells." The baboon head bowed until it rested on the floor.

"I poisssoned the Mage for getting clossse to War." The snake added, a wriggle going through its body.

A blond brow arched but the Paladin looked more bored than annoyed. "Anythin' else?"

"We told her Famine was coming for her."

"We ssspied on War and knew when he Awakened."

"At that moment, we hoped she would reveal herself to answer for her crimes."

"We were correct in that asssumption, but it alssso gave her time to prepare."

"After her Trial, we tormented the Jester because he was the last kitsune, and mated to War."

"It wasss foolisssh of usss, but we could do nothing elssse until he ssstood up againssst usss. It freed usss to look for our treasssure."

"We found a good many artifacts in our search of the ruins of her home. We brought them with us in the hopes that it might help to atone for the crimes we committed in her service."

"Hopefully they will be of sssome ussse to you."

In the manner of all multi-headed Beings, they took turns speaking. The baboon pulled a satchel out from beneath itself, and sticking from the top was the dragon's horn wand that Famine had been sure he'd taken with him after the warlock's Trial so many years ago. Pushing it forward, the nue took a step back to allow the Third and his mate a chance to retrieve the items without fear of repercussions. Shinji knelt, and began sorting through the bag. Besides the wand there was a vial of unicorn blood, the tail of a kitsune, primary feathers from a phoenix, the pelt of a selkie, a vampire's fang, a full set of werewolf's claws, powdered mermaid scales, on and on and on. A few things were still missing, but most of what they needed to resurrect the missing species was in that bag.

"I think...in light o' yer attention ta detail...I c'n fergive yer trespasses...however," Shinji paused and the nue froze, swallowing nervously, "Ya must work here in th' Shrine, aidin' th' Court in penance fer havin' harmed th' Mage and th' Jester."

"Thank you, Sir Summer." The Being bowed again, obviously relieved.

"Take this ta th' library and give it ta Death. He'll store it 'til we're ready fer it." The blond closed the top, and climbed back up onto the bed, as the nue gave yet another bow and vanished through the Veil on its errand, taking the bag with it. He turned to his lover once they were alone again, "How was that?"

"That was...wonderful, mate," Aizen tried to assure him, but his wings had turned black as pitch unconsciously.

There was a reason _Shinji _was the Paladin—Famine tended to be much too unforgiving. Just bringing _up_ that warlock put him into fits. So having to determine whether to pardon the one who was _aiding _her…? Even knowing she was holding them captive, even aware they had no choice, if it were up to him…he knew he could not have forgiven them. It wasn't in him.

"You made the...the best choice, love, I…I…just…I need to…" his wings snapped and he shuddered.

Sharp, brown eyes narrowed by a fraction and the blond grabbed his lover's face, kissing him soundly, with all of the love and emotion he could pour into the gesture. Like a spell, but better, Aizen's wings fell limp and turned a lavender-pink of love and arousal, eyes closing as he purred and returned as much of his own love as he could into the kiss. His loving, darling, amazing mate...what had he been upset about again?


End file.
